Watermark
by Catwho
Summary: The Earth is finally contacted by alien intelligence. But are their intentions pure? Incomplete, to be resumed someday perhaps...
1. Episode One: Message in a Bottle

Episode I, Part I

**Watermark**

[Back to the Index][1]

**Episode One** : Message in a Bottle

[**[Song: Airmail from the Moon]**][2]

_Yesterday I had a dream where I felt as though reality  
Left me standing at a void in the morning sunrise  
Frantically I called your name, for I feared that you had left me  
Like a child I cried alone for the sight of your eyes  
-- "Airmail from the Moon"_

_* * *_

On Earth, at Logan International airport in Boston, a shuttle prepared for takeoff. Technicians swarmed outside of it, adjusting hoses, filling tanks, loading luggage, or checking readouts. The sheer amount of work required to launch a shuttle to a colony was enormous -- as was the expense. And so it was rare that the airport staff launched a shuttle out of schedule, but in the case of emergencies, they prided themselves on being able to launch a shuttle with two hour's notice. 

Inside the cockpit of the shuttle, the captain and his copilot checked and rechecked all the readings on the dashboard, confirming that they matched those being reported by the technicians outside. The elderly, elegant captain had managed to retain a jolly air about himself despite having been through hell and back in the wars several years earlier. He turned toward his younger copilot, and smiled slightly to himself. The younger man was engrossed in his work, as always. 

"Not only is the meeting so important as to require a special flight for Vice Minister Darlian, they're even giving her the best piloting team in the fleet," the captain said lightly. It was his secret goal to cause some sort of reaction from his quiet copilot on every flight. More often than not he failed, but despite his mysterious demeanor, the young man was truly one of the best in the fleet. 

And this is why Heero Yuy, age 18, only made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and continued to check off readings. But then he glanced out of the window to where the foreign minister stood, and the captain thought he saw a glance of naked wistfulness on the boy's face. 

"Yeah," Heero finally said, not looking at the captain. "Relena's something special, all right." 

* * * 

Relena Darlian, née Peacecraft, tried to board the shuttle with as little fanfare as possible. She was followed closely by her primary assistant, Dorothy Catalonia, who kept shooting dark glances to those whom she found suspicious around them. Relena wore a simple dark blue traveling suit, and her hair was pulled back into its usual loose ponytail. 

The entourage for the Ministry sat in the empty first class section. It bothered Relena that an entire shuttle flight had been rescheduled just for her, but as the Ministry of Science had offered to pay for it from their own budget, she could hardly refuse. She did wonder why the Ministry of Science wanted her so desperately for what had sounded like a dry, academic lecture on the recently detected radio signals from space. 

"I still don't see why this trip is necessary, Miss Relena," Dorothy said, her voice not betraying a hint of malice to those inexperienced with dealing with her. "We have much more important things do than chase after silly fake radio signals from outer space." 

Relena agreed with her assistant privately, but had to play the devil's advocate in order to justify the trip to herself. "We don't know for sure that they are 'fake.' And I was requested specifically by the Ministry of Science. I have to do this." Relena opened up her carryon bag and found a small hand mirror. "This project was being headed up by Lady Une, after all, and you know I trust her implicitly. " Relena fiddled with her bangs. She was very glad that she'd adopted the hairstyle from her brother two years ago. The soft wings framing her face flattered her sharp jaw line much more than her old hairstyle had. She gave her bangs one final tug while Dorothy frowned at the seat in front of her. 

"Perhaps I just don't understand that part, Miss Relena. What could fancy radio signals possibly have to do with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? Just because they appear to be coming from a hunk of titanium on the edge of the solar system..." Dorothy borrowed Relena's mirror before she could put it away, and checked on the state of her own usually impeccable hair. 

Relena sighed and took her mirror back from Dorothy, who was fought for a few seconds, reluctant to give it up. "I just don't know, Dorothy. I just don't know." 

* * * 

Heero flicked on the cockpit view screen. The image of the shuttle's cabin immediately blossomed before him. Relena and Dorothy Catalonia appeared to be fighting over some object. Heero never understood why Relena still had Dorothy as her assistant -- especially after all the social climbing stunts the blonde girl had pulled, not to mention her betrayals during the war. But that was Relena. She could forgive anyone, probably. She'd forgiven Zechs, she'd forgiven Lady Une, and she'd forgiven him.

Relena looked so . . . content. Although her face showed signs of worry, she appeared healthy and full of life. Heero touched her image on the screen, hardly conscious that he did so. Yes, she had forgiven him, even though Heero wondered if he'd ever be able to fully forgive himself.

* * * 

Relena started. "Heero," she said automatically in surprise, then wondered why she'd suddenly had a vision of the former Gundam pilot. She hadn't seen him since he'd left (without saying good-bye, as usual) at the wedding of Noin and Zechs three months earlier. 

Dorothy glanced at her, arching one bifurcated eyebrow. "Are you still thinking about that boy, Miss Relena?" she asked smoothly. 

Relena blushed faintly. "I tell you, I've gotten over him. I'm sure I have. But . . . " 

"But?" Dorothy pressed. 

"But sometimes I feel as though he's watching over me. Just watching. Just making sure I'm safe. Strange, isn't it?" 

* * * 

"She's about your age, isn't she, lad?" the captain commented casually. Heero caught himself and turned the cabin view screen off. 

"Yeah," he confirmed, hesitantly. "She's a few months younger than me." And a few worlds apart, he added to himself. It was true. Since the defeat of Dekim during the Barton War, the former princess had risen gracefully through the world of politics, and had even been nominated to the position of President, although she had yet to accept that post. She already had the respect and trust of the people, invaluable to anyone in politics. And she had already ruled the world once before, albeit briefly and as a figurehead. 

The captain smiled to himself. His almost emotionless copilot buried his feelings deeply, but something -- or someone -- he apparently felt so strongly about managed to break through the calm demeanor he maintained. Whenever they flew Relena Darlian, Heero Yuy showed a small but substantial crack in his armor. 

* * *

The shuttle took off for outer space without a hitch, and in a few short hoursthe automatic systems guided it into the stable zero-G center of Colony One. 

* * *

The Foreign Ministry party disembarked, struggling, stretching, unfolding from their cramped position on the shuttle, and then the press assaulted them with no warning, washing over them like a warm tidal wave of flashing lights and eager ears.

"Congratulations on your recent nomination to the Presidency, Miss Darlian. Any thoughts on the upcoming election?" 

"No comment." 

"How will this signal from space affect your stance on pacifism?" 

"No comment," Relena answered again, as she and Dorothy battled their way through the crowd. She remembered the days when her father had gone through much the same thing, before the war. The trick was to keep your face blank and not let anything anyone said cause any reaction at all. Fortunately, Relena had had several excellent poker face role models to follow during the wars, and she had perfected her own long ago. There is a time to smile and a time to frown, and with the papparazie, it is neither.

"Miss Relena, is it true that you are having an affair with the entrepreneur Quatre Raberba Winner? Are there any plans for marriage in the works?" 

Relena did not even grace that question with a response. Dorothy plowed through the paparazzi in front of her, not caring whose feet she stepped on in doing so. 

"Make way for the vice foreign minister!" she shouted angrily, but the press opted to ignore her and kept on asking questions. 

Finally, they reached the outside of the airport. Dorothy and Relena leapt into the waiting black ground car like trained gazelles, and the press found themselves locked outside. The car immediately pulled away. "It gets worse every time," Relena gasped, leaning gratefully against the door, clutching her carryon bag as if it were the only defense between her and the sharks outside. 

"That is the price you pay for having freedom of the press, of course," Dorothy said, much less fazed than Relena. She calmly opened up her briefcase and pulled out a can of mineral water. The ground car drove off towards Relena's apartment, in a fashionable uptown section of the colony. 

Heero watched them from the pilot's locker room, his face inches from the glass, almost wishing she would not pull away and be gone from his life again so quickly. But there were some things that were not meant to be. He hung his head as the car drove away, then pulled himself together. He had a life, a peaceful one, and one that allowed him to keep constant watch over her during the most dangerous part of her job as Foreign Minister. He knew he should be grateful just for the small assurance that she was all right. As long as Relena was okay, then the world was okay. 

And yet, some small part of him wanted more. Grimacing, Heero left the window and went to his locker, pulling out clean clothes and a towel. He needed a shower. A cold one. 

* * * 

Outside of a high glass window, the lights of Colony Four twinkled brightly in the circular layout. Quatre Raberba Winner sighed in appreciation of the beauty, and sipped his tea from one of the bone white china cups he favored. He was sitting behind his desk, ostensibly working, but he'd drifted off into the Land of La while waiting for Trowa. 

Since the death of his father a little over two years ago, Quatre had been desperately trying to fill his shoes. He had done fairly well at first, but he'd let his sisters gradually handle more and more of the massive amount of daily business that needed to be done while he himself focused on the financial world. He had a surprising knack for making money, just like his father, and he had ensured the financial security of the ever growing family for a long time to come. 

Quatre sipped his tea again. Trowa had called him earlier, a very pleasant event in an otherwise typical day. He hadn't seen his best friend in nearly two months, although they kept up communication by emails and snail mails faithfully. Quatre treasured Trowa's handwritten letters dearly, as they were a more personal and friendlier form of contact than email. 

Apparently, the circus was in town in L4, and Trowa was coming to visit. He had said that he would be in sometime that evening. So, for now, Quatre would wait, and try to control an ever growing sense of giddy anticipation. 

* * * 

"Trowa, are you absolutely sure about this?" Catherine Bloom said sadly to her little brother as she watched him pack up. They had only arrived in L4 two days before, but the show had faired poorly and so they had decided to move onto greener pastures ahead of schedule. 

"Yes, Catherine, I'm sure. This is what I want." Trowa's face showed no emotion, as usual. He appeared steady as always, seeming not to care that he had stunned everyone by requesting a few months hiatus. Catherine was pretty sure she knew why, although Trowa hadn't spoken of it. She had a feeling that he himself didn't want to admit that he'd fallen in love with Quatre. 

"Well . . . since I can't say anything that will change your mind, I wish you the best, Trowa." She kissed his cheek, and offered him a smile. "We will miss you. All of us." 

"Tell the Ringmaster that I'll be back before you know it. And I will be back, Catherine." Trowa slung his bag over his shoulder, then took off his clown's mask and handed it to her. "Take care of this for me . . . and take care of yourself." He then walked out of the tent. He paused and glanced back only once, and Catherine gave him a faltering wave. 

"I will, Trowa," she vowed, and cradled his mask. "You just remember to do the same." Her eyes narrowed. Damned if her little brother didn't know how to take care of himself at all. Letting himself pine away, saying that emails and letters were enough . . . She'd accepted that her brother loved Quatre far more than anyone knew, including himself, but she just wished that he wasn't so thick skulled that he didn't even see it. She set his mask carefully on her own bags, and went to find the Ringmaster to see if anything else needed to be done. 

* * * 

Trowa entered Quatre's office silently. The guards outside the Winner mansion knew him well, as he had visited Quatre many times before. He approached Quatre, who had his back turned to the door, watching the colony outside. But although he was quiet, Quatre knew he was there anyway and smiled softly to himself as Trowa rested one hand on his shoulder. 

"Welcome back," Quatre said simply. "I missed you." Trowa said nothing, but half sat on Quatre's desk behind him, and squeezed his best friend's shoulder in response. They basked in the comfort of being together for a long moment before Trowa felt the need to break the silence. 

"How is the colony?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. 

Quatre stood up restlessly, slipping out from Trowa's hand. He stuck his hands in his pocket and began to pace between the desk and the window, looking outside at the lights again. "It's peaceful, or so it appears. There is a lot of commotion about the radio signals. The tabloids are all saying we're going to be invaded by extraterrestrials, although it's probably just one of our own abandoned satellites." 

"Sounds like an exciting time," Trowa said, faintly amused, as he watched the blonde Arabian pace. 

"This may be what we needed to finally unite the world in peace, Trowa," Quatre said, and stopped pacing. "Or it could tear us all apart all over again." 

Trowa raised one eyebrow but said nothing for a moment. The two merely stared at each other, pale aqua eyes on forest, and Trowa felt his hear beat faster for some unexplained reason. He'd known how he felt about Quatre, but did not know if the other boy felt the same way. To hide his uncertainty, Trowa stood up from his perch on the desk and imitated Quatre by sticking his hands in his jeans pockets. 

"You said there was someone here you wanted me to meet when I called you earlier. Have they arrived yet?" Trowa asked. 

Quatre started. "Oh! I almost forgot. He's already here." Quatre ran over to the door that led to his personal quarters, opened it, and stuck his head inside the door frame. "Dozé!" he called loudly. 

In a few seconds, a tawny haired boy appeared carrying a model of the Gundam Sandrock. He looked no older than perhaps seven or eight. The boy froze when he saw Trowa, and looked at him with wide, intelligent green eyes. 

"Trowa, this is my oldest nephew, Dozé Winner." Quatre beamed proudly at his best friend, then stood on tiptoe to whisper in Trowa's ear, while Dozé simply stood there, clutching the model. "My father would have wanted me to either produce or declare an heir by now. Since it doesn't look like I'll be having children of my own anytime soon, I decided to adopt and raise Dozé in that capacity. His mother . . . we lost my sister Arista last year, and my other sisters agreed that Dozé would be best with me." Quatre leaned down and patted his nephew's head. The boy looked back up at Trowa. 

"Your name is Dozé?" Trowa said to the boy conversationally, and kneeled down in front of him so that they were eye level. 

"Yesth," the boy lisped out. He was missing both of his front teeth. Seven, then, Trowa decided. "It meansth twelve in Portuguesthe. I have eleven older cousinsth." Dozé held out his prized model of Sandrock for Trowa to see. "Have you ever seen one of thesthe? It'sth a Gundam. I built it myself." Dozé's declaration contained no trace of pride, and his face was calm. He was simply stating a face, a solid one, which rebounded across Trowa's mind, and caused him to form an instant liking to Quatre's nephew. 

"Yes, I've seen one," Trowa said, and carefully took the model in his hands. The replica of Sandrock was nearly perfect -- fully poseable, highly detailed, with even the self-destruct mechanism in the right place. "Twelve..." he mused aloud. "Three times four..." 

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Quatre said, and laughed nervously, blushing. He then grinned and patted Dozé's head again. Dozé scowled at Quatre. "He's got your eyes, Trowa," Quatre whispered to Trowa. 

Trowa allowed himself a tiny smile and handed the model of the Gundam back to Dozé. 

"Can I call you Uncle Trowa?" the boy asked suddenly. "I've got twenty seven auntsth and only one uncle. I don't like thingth to be unbalanced. One more uncle will even thingths out a lot, if only in nameth." 

Trowa kept his face carefully blanked, but glanced at Quatre with wondering eyes. "Sure. Just call me Uncle Trowa." 

Dozé's gap tooth smiled brightened his face like the sun emerging from storm clouds, and the smile was genuine and unforced, lighting up his clear green eyes, and causing familiar crinkles around them. He reminded Trowa very much of Quatre in that moment. 

* * * 

The wind is strong on the red planet of Mars. The landscape, carved by the thin atmosphere and long dried up seas, looms in reddish gloom over everything. The sky is red. The ground is red. Yet, against the harsh redness, there is a faint spot of blue white at the moment. It is the headquarters of the Martian Terraforming Project, headed by the dead man once known as Milliardo Peacecraft. 

He was in his office, playing chess with his wife. Lucrezia Noin (she had wanted to keep her last name, and since Zechs in all honestly couldn't offer her either of his own, he hadn't minded) was the only person he'd ever met who could best him in a game of chess. Outside, the winds of Mars swirled angrily, but in their corner of the small Project dome, the two newlyweds were nearly still. 

"Your move," she said softly, touching his foot with her own. 

Zechs looked down at the chess pieces, but his mind was not on the knights and pawns. Noin was going to win this game again. 

"Noin," he said suddenly, "what do you think of the signals that the Ministry of Science detected?" 

Noin blinked. Her husband had been pensive ever since he'd read the report of the signals that the Ministry of Science, the group who funded their little terraformation project, had detected last month. It wasn't that he really believed there were extraterrestrials. He had dismissed the idea rapidly, much to Noin's secret disappointment. 

"I think that when they had the press conference a few days ago they went overboard," she said, staring at the board. 

"I think you're right," Zechs said, and picked up a bishop. He hesitated, then set it in two diagonal squares away. 

"Why do you ask?" Noin said, lacing her fingers together and resting her hand on her chin. Her foot was still touching Zech's ankle, underneath the table. She looked at the board. Hmmm, that last move had opened up several intriguing ways to catch a rook... 

"There's a meeting today, on Colony One. I received the report this morning. Lady Une called Relena and several others. Apparently, they want to investigate the signal further, but they lack the support of the people. I'm afraid Une is going to try to get Relena involved." 

Noin decided to spare his rook for the moment, and instead took a pawn with her knight. "Check," she said. Zechs winced. "I don't see why Une needs Relena. It's not even her department." 

"Relena has the support of the people. Especially since the Barton War. How else would an eighteen year old be nominated for President?" Zechs was very proud of his sister, although he thought she pushed herself too hard. "Une wants to form an expedition to the source of the signal." 

"She what?" Noin said, sitting upright, all thoughts of chess fleeing from her mind. "Zechs, you mean, as in a ship? A flight to the source?" She had developed a gleam in her eye. Zechs had been afraid of this. Noin loved outer space more than anything. 

"Yes, a manned space flight. Noin, you're not going." 

"And why not?" she cried, indignantly. "I've the experience. I've the initiative. I_ want to go." _

"Noin, so far all we've been told is that there is a radio signal broadcasting from the asteroid belt. It _could_ be an asteroid. I don't think there will actually be an investigation." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't even know why Lady Une told us." Zechs rescued his king from its predicament and captured one of her pawns. 

"Zechs," she said, catching his hand before he could retrieve it, and staring at him with her indigo eyes. She was serious. Zechs studied their linked hands, gently nudging her thumb with his own. "If there is an investigation, I would like to go." She squeezed his hand. "But I'll come back. I promised I would never leave your side, and if you don't want me to, then I won't." 

"Lucy, if it means this much to you, then you don't need my permission." He called her by his nickname for her, the one he knew she adored and hated at the same time. If anyone else besides him dared to call her that, they would find themselves unconscious, or worse. 

"Zechs . . . thank you." She touched his foot with her own again. Then she looked down at the board once more, and slid her queen to a square across the board from his king. "Checkmate." She smiled slightly. Zechs sighed and nodded to his wife, who had just beaten him for the fourteenth time in a row, a new record. 

* * * 

But two days later, Noin suddenly changed her mind. She wouldn't tell Zechs why, but he caught her humming as she worked on more than one occasion, a sure sign that she was preoccupied with something far more important than her love for space. Zechs wondered what had happened, but he didn't asking, knowing that Noin would tell him if she wanted him to know. 

* * * 

Duo peered inside the conference room. It was empty. Good. 

The boy, now a man, formerly known as the God of Death, plopped down into one of the comfortable office chairs in the conference room on Colony One, and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He needed a few moments to think. Of course, since he was Duo, thinking involved also saying things aloud. 

"Man, I can't believe I got called into this. Heero too, probably. What is Lady Une thinking?" Duo was wearing his usual black leather outfit, and he tugged idly on the collar of the jacket. "This is crazy. And Hilde couldn't even come along to comfort me." Duo grinned at the though of his tiny room mate. She was stuck on Colony Two dealing with business school exams, though, else he would have insisted she come along to keep him company. Since she'd started business school last year, their scrap yard had become nearly twice as profitable, allowing them to live comfortably in a good neighborhood on Colony Two. Even though she wasn't that great of a mobile suit pilot, the sunny little Hilde was a hard-core businesswoman, and Duo loved her for that, among dozens of other reasons. 

A noise at the door startled him from his reverie. Quatre Raberba Winner peered inside, mouse like, and visibly brightened when he saw Duo. 

"Hey, Quatre, old buddy!" Duo nearly shouted in surprise, and stood up to great his friend. He had no sooner done so when the rest of the conference party came into the room. Duo blinked. "Wow, Relena, Dorothy too . . . Lady Une, you're planning a regular old reunion here, aren'tcha?" As he said that, Wu-fei sidled into the room, looking around angrily, followed by Sally Po, who had her usual look of amused tolerance on her face. Everyone waited until Relena sat down to seat themselves. 

"You didn't need to do that," Relena said, half embarrassed. "I'm not the President yet." 

"But you're a nominee," Quatre objected enthusiastically. "It's just a matter of you accepting the position, isn't it?" 

"Then actually winning the election," Relena said with a sigh. "I don't know if I'm up to that." 

"Where's Heero?" Duo said, glancing around curiously. Relena stiffened. 

Lady Une also glanced sharply at him. "How do you know he was even invited here, Duo?" 

Duo smirked and stuck one booted foot on the conference table, earning him reproving looks from both Quatre and Wu-fei. "I just know. Heero and me are like this, you know," he said, crossing two fingers. "I have a feeling that if this meeting is what I _think_ it is, then you're gonna need a few good pilots." Duo closed his eyes smugly. "And everyone knows that Heero and I are the best." He opened one eye slightly and peered at Relena, who was very pale. 

A scientist came into the conference room before Duo could continue teasing Relena. He handed a clipboard to Lady Une, then seated himself at the head of the table. He was a young, thin man, with flame red head and a waxed handlebar mustache. 

"Allow me to introduce Dr. Seamus O' Malley," Lady Une said. "His team headed up the project that discovered the alien signals. The project, known hundreds of years ago as the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, periodically sweeps the sky looking for abnormal radio signals. But I'll let him explain in his own words what they found last month." 

Dr. O' Malley nodded to her, and glanced around the conference table. He tapped a button, and a monitor rose from the table in a smooth motion, accompanied by a white screen dropping down from the ceiling across the room. He type a few commands, and the lights in the room dimmed. The Ministry of Science loved gizmos, and the conference room showed it. 

"As you are all aware," Dr. O' Malley began, "humans have long sought contact with beings outside of our own solar system. We have always believed them to exist, despite the lack of evidence; humanity on a broad scale has trouble thinking that we would be the only people to exist in such a vast universe. Unfortunately, all attempts to locate any other civilizations, both Before and After Colonization, failed. And this is why we were shocked when a routine scan of our solar system detected what at first appeared to be a new comet around the Oort cloud last month. We immediately began to track it faithfully, and to record its signals. As soon as it was in range, we took a picture. This is what we saw." He keyed up an image of a bright dot within a sea of stars. 

"This image was taken with the Hubble VI telescope just one over one month ago. While it at first appeared to be a natural object, it was traveling in a linear rather than an elliptical orbit, and it was zipping along at an extremely rapid pace, roughly two percent of the speed of light. That may not sound fast, but compared to our own speed capabilities, it's impossible to imagine. The trajectory was unnatural . . . and the object was slowing down. Spectroanalysis confirmed that the object was made of a titanium alloy." 

Duo couldn't help but think of the Tallgeese, which had also been made of titanium. "That's some tough stuff, and I don't think that's the kind of thing comets are made out of," he commented. 

"Precisely. Either this object was manufactured by mankind, or it's from outside the solar system." 

"But what makes you suspect that it's the latter as opposed to the former?" Sally Po chimed in, her eyes fastened with rapt attention on the image on the view screen. Wu-Fei narrowed his eyes at his partner, then glared back at the image. 

"Besides the fact that there is no object of this size or material being "lost," that image there is over a month old. When we released the results of our radio signal studies two days ago, it was because we had found this." Dr. O' Malley grimly called up a new image. There was a collective gasp from around the room. "We hate to deceive the populace, but we had to break the news before it leaked. The object is now about 5 AU from the Earth, or about the same Jupiter's distance from the sun, tangled up in our asteroid belt." Amid the dim blobs of asteroids, a distinctly _made _object blazed brightly. The image was in black and while, but nonetheless, the object was clearly barrel shaped with three unilateral fins. 

"And now, the real reason we called you all here. Lady Une is the only one outside of our team who has heard this sound file. We cannot translate it as of yet . . . but even so, you can tell that this is not a natural signal." He tapped a few more keys, and a strange noise filled the room. It was beautiful, in the same way that whales singing are beautiful, only it was in harmony. It sounded like a ship, released from its moors, floating out over the ocean, entrancing, haunting. Duo suddenly wished Hilde were there again. She'd like the music, if that's what it was. 

"We want to send an expedition team to investigate the signal. We called you all in today because we felt that, in some way, you all should be involved. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, of course," he said, nodding to Relena, "the Preventers, and the Gundam pilots who helped us so much during the wars -- all of you deserve to take part in this, in whatever way you can. Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy has already agreed to pilot a shuttle out to the object , although he could not make it today because of a previous obligation. We unfortunately no longer have formal astronauts, or else we would never ask you." 

"I'm in," Duo said, grinning triumphantly at Lady Une. He'd called _that_ one. 

"Quatre Winner, your family has always been one of the greatest supporters of colony and space science. We humbly ask for your support in this endeavor." 

"Of course the Winners will help. This is exciting!" Quatre had secretly watched the movie Contact about a dozen times when he was little. While a scrambled radio signal wasn't exactly the same as a replay of Hitler addressing the Third Reich, he wanted to play a part in the real thing in whatever way he could. Trowa would probably want to, as well. 

"And Lady Une, your Preventers have already agreed to go along in case of trouble. Miss Relena?" 

Relena, who had been staring into space, toying with various theories of what sort of 'previous obligation' Heero could have had, brought herself to her senses. "Yes?" 

"We need to send a diplomat. It's doubtful that we'll actually make any sort of contact will be made . . . but in the event that -- in the unlikely event that we do, we felt that you'd be the most appropriate person to deal with things." 

Everyone turned to stare at Relena. She closed her eyes, and again thought briefly of Heero. He had already agreed to go. Although he never admitted it, Relena knew that he had a secret passion for the unknown, a love for answering the unanswerable questions in life. That was why he was such a good pilot, and a hacker in a pinch. Heero was going along. Then so should she. 

She opened her eyes with a snap. 

"I'll do it," she said firmly. 

* * *

Catherine Bloom picked her way down the dark street of Colony SC18726 in L4, wishing she wasn't alone, that someone was with her, anyone, just so she wouldn't be afraid. The colony night cycles were entirely artificial, but that didn't make them any less scary. Trowa was probably with Quatre now, which meant she'd have to just be brave until he came back. She loved Trowa, her "heart" brother, as he called it, and knew that he needed this time, but that didn't mean she had to like being by herself. 

She breathed a sigh of relief as she left the darkest part of the street and entered a pool of light. The circus was leaving tomorrow already, and she'd gone to make some last minute traveling purchases and stayed too long. Even now the lights were switching off as the stores closed down for the evening. In less than an hour it would be completely dark, and the light of the stars would shine through the walls of the Side. 

The noise of a fight caught her attention, and she glanced over at the other side of the street. About twenty or so people were assembled in front of the television bank in the electronics store, yelling vulgar things at the screen. Her curiosity piqued, she clutched her purse tightly and joined them. 

"What's going on?" she asked the calmest person near her. The man shook his head, and pointed to the monitor.

"The government is going to waste our money on a trip to the asteroid belt. They think it might be extraterrestrials." 

"We don't want no stinkin' aliens on our world!" someone shouted at the TV screens. 

"But how do we know that?" Catherine said, fascinated. On the screen, a redheaded scientist answered questions for a rowdy audience. Catherine blinked. Was that Trowa's Quatre up there with him? No, it couldn't be... 

"We don't know, which is why they're sending people to find out. Askin' for trouble, in my opinion. But they got the go ahead from some higher ups, including Queen Relena, so they're gonna go ahead with it." The man sighed, and lit a cigarette. 

"If Relena has given her approval, it has to be okay," Catherine said, uncertainly. A few people around her gave her disapproving stares and continued to yell at the vidscreens. She ignored them and watched, reading the subtitles so that she could understand for herself exactly what was happening. 

* * *

"This is a good crowd," a man in a black suit whispered to his comrade, a woman, also in a black suit. 

The woman nodded. "There is probably a dozen volunteers alone. Maybe even the figurehead we're looking for." 

"That one there," the man said. "Leggy, beautiful, and young. Just the kind we need to attract members." 

The woman glared at him beneath her dark glasses. "We're being paid to start a war, not start a fan club. The one we choose for the leader has to do more than just look good. He or she has to be smart, and devoted to the cause." 

The man smiled lecherously at the girl he'd spotted. "We can make her devoted to the cause. That itself wouldn't be a problem." 

The woman rolled her eyes at her partner. He did have a point, though. The leader they were looking for had to be attractive -- no one followed the causes of ugly people, at least not unless they actually believed in the cause. And what the Humperdinck Project (the woman despised the name but it had been the best they could come up with) needed was sheer numbers to work. Hence an attractive leader. The actual disposition of the leader didn't matter. They could program charm. They could manipulate feelings. They could _make _a personality. 

"She may be the one," the woman admitted. "But she'd have to volunteer of her own free will, at least at first. Hypnosis doesn't work miracles, you know." 

The man nodded. "Time for the show," he said, and stepped out of the shadows toward the crowd. 

* * * 

"Good citizens of the colony," a man yelled loudly from the side of the ever growing crowd. Almost thirty heads turned to look at him in unison, including Catherine's. She knew she needed to be heading back to the circus, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the monitor. She hated being in outer space; the circus belonged on Earth. What the scientists were asking of the people was just wrong. The trip would be a waste of money -- hadn't they all learned that, long before they'd even built the colonies? "The government of the Earth Sphere has asked you to accept the invasion of our world by extraterrestrials! I ask, when we achieved peace just two years ago, is this what we expected from our rulers?" 

The crowd began to murmuring in assent. 

"Humanity has finally reached peace. We cannot just sit back and let non humans come in and take over our world. Yet this is what the government is asking you all to do -- no, even worse, the government is extending an invitation to the non humans to come in! And who will be attacked first? The colonies." 

The man waited for that last bit to sink in. Catherine had a feeling that he was exaggerating -- all she'd seen so far was a signal from outer space, something that probably was just debris. But around her, the crowd pressed forward, eagerly awaiting his next words. 

They want to fight, she realized. They want something to be angry at. It wouldn't have mattered what it was . . . peace was a vacuum that needed to be filled with violence. 

"You, young lady," the man said suddenly, pointing his finger at her. The crowd stared followed him, all looking at her. Catherine wasn't normally self-conscious -- after all, she was a circus performer -- but the eyes that looked at her were filled with adrenaline and malice. "What are you going to do to stop this invasion?" 

"Me?" she said in complete surprise. "But we don't even know that there are really aliens yet!" 

"You think they'd let us know about the radio signals if they hadn't already found out?" To the crowd at large, he opened his arms wide. "The New Earth Sphere is just like the Alliance and Oz were. They keep things secret from the colonies, so that they can take advantage of us. But we must not stand for it." He pumped his fist into the air. "For the sanctity of the Earth!" The crowd around her erupted into cheers. Catherine desperately wanted to get away, but the crowd was pulling her along now -- it had become a mob -- toward a destination unknown. And despite herself, Catherine felt that the enthusiasm was catching. 

* * *

[[][3]Ending Song: Watermark, by The Taliesin Orchestra] 

Episode Two: The Novi, an apparently peaceful race chased out of their home world by the evil Setche, appeal to Relena Darlian for supplies, in exchange for defensive technology. Trowa and Dozé Winner search for Catherine Bloom, and discover a new threat on Earth.

Want the lyrics for [][4]Airmail from the Moon? They are at the [][5]Anime Lyrics Library, courtesy of kaijyuu M of the [][6]Two Mix Electronic Library. The lyrics used in the beginning of each episode are an English arrangement by Cat Who, and are not the official lyrics, nor are they an entirely accurate translation. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. It belongs to TV Tokyo, Sunrise/Bandai, and Sotsu Agency. All characters are used without permission, but please bear in mind, I am not making any money off of this. Airmail from the Moon ©1999 Two Mix. Watermark, Taliesin Arrangement is ©1995 The Taliesin Orchestra and Enya. Both songs are used without permission. 

   [1]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/index.html
   [2]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/airmail.mp3
   [3]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/watermark.mp3
   [4]: http://www.animelyrics.com/jpop/twomix/airmail.htm
   [5]: http://www.animelyrics.com/
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/kaijyuu_m/two-mix/index.html



	2. Episode Two: Journey of Heart

Episode Two, Part One

**Watermark**

[Back to the Index][1]

**Episode Two** : Journey of Heart

[**[Song: Airmail from the Moon]**][2]

_Tell me, why is it that all things seem to have no meaning?  
Don't you think that the world's just too cruel?  
All that I want to say to you is that I am sorry  
For being so hard to comprehend; that, and I love you.  
--"Airmail from the Moon"_

* * *

In space, the sound of the huge Vernier rocket engines warming up did not carry like it would have on Earth. Duo liked that. Space was much quieter than Earth or the colonies. It gave Duo time to think, something Hilde often suggested he do more of. 

"The ministry of science sure got this shuttle ready quickly," Duo commented to Heero, who was staring at an image of Relena on the monitor. "I have a sneaky suspicion that they had one all ready in case they ever needed it." He touched the dashboard, which was clean although worn. The shuttle had been a standard Earth to Colony transport, but the Ministry had modified it with fast long distance rockets to carry them on an intercept course with the Object. The newer controls contrasted sharply with the slightly aged interior. 

Heero continued to stare at the monitor image of Relena, which was piped in through a camera in the passenger cabin. Duo grinned to himself. Hilde had given him a very enthusiastic good-bye, but Heero did not have the benefit of an eager girlfriend, and so had to suffer alone. "Ne, Heero, maybe you ought to go to the passenger cabin yourself. You'd have a better view," Duo teased. Heero gave Duo one of his infamous Death Glares, but turned off the view screen with a soft sigh. Duo decided wickedly to bother Heero about Relena for the entire trip. 

* * *

Relena tucked her feet into the special zero-G boots that had been bolted to the floor of the modified shuttle. In the three days since she'd agreed on behalf of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to represent Earth in the event the signals were real, she'd been drilled on more zero-G techniques than she'd ever had to learn before. The Ministry of Science had initially balked when she'd expressed her wish to go in person, since they had wanted a representative with some space experience beyond normal travel. But Lady Une had a lot of clout, and in the end, the team had consisted of herself, Relena, Lady Une, Doctor O' Malley, Quatre, and Sally Po and Wu-Fei, who would be acting as their guards. Oddly enough, her sister-in-law Noin had decided not to go at the last minute. She'd called it 'personal' reasons and had smiled cattily on the viewscreen. Relena had a sneaky suspicion she knew exactly why Noin had changed her mind, even though she'd been so enthusiastic when she'd called Relena to let her know she wasn't going. They would have pushed the mission back two days for her, to allow transit time from Mars, but Noin had been adament. She was not going into zero-G. 

Relena fingered the plastic armrest idly while they waited to launch. The entire shuttle was familiar, yet different from the ones she'd flown in hundreds of times before. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the missing seats and dimmed lights in this shuttle made the passenger cabin seem a lot smaller. The fact that both Heero and Duo were piloting also made a difference. Gone were the two skinny teenagers who had alternately saved her or threatened to kill her so many times in the past. In their place were two young men, both full of promise and potential, having found their places in life. They had changed, just as she had changed. 

She hadn't seen Heero since the wedding. He and Duo had not been in any of her trainings, since they had to learn to pilot the shuttle, a time-consuming task. He'd left her alone, after the wedding, without saying good-bye, as usual. She wondered briefly if she'd see him at all during the trip. She pretended that her heart did not beat faster at the very thought. 

* * *

Trowa clutched Dozé Winner's hand in the control room of the colony launch pad. The seven year old had been calm when he learned his Uncle Quatre was going to the Object, and would be gone several days, but Trowa had assured him that Quatre knew how to take care of himself out of some adult instinct to tell a child what onself wanted or needed to hear. 

"All external systems cleared," the head technician shouted out. The control room was busy, far busier than had it been a normal shuttle launch. The Vernier rockets that had been jury-rigged to the shuttle were still prototypical. Technicians milled about, like little ants whose colony had been kicked. Trowa smiled ever so faintly to himself. In some ways the metaphor wasn't so far off. 

"Copy that," Heero's voice responded over the main speakers. "All external checks cleared from here." 

Dozé moved in closer to Trowa, and Trowa squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

"Don't worry," Trowa whispered to him, "Quatre's with friends." 

"Trowa Barton?" an uncertain voice called from across the room. Trowa turned slightly to see a harried woman in a Preventers uniform. She picked her way carefully across the control room, trying not to touch anything or anyone, as if she'd contaminate them, or worse, pick up an infection herself. She held a yellow telefax in her hand. Trowa felt a sudden stab of icy dread, but his face betrayed nothing. 

"I'm over here," he said to the woman. She immediately looked relieved. 

"Oh, there you are. This came in for you from Preventers Headquarters on Colony Four about an hour ago. . It's marked emergency . . . I don't know why I was given delivery duty, but the sender insisted it go through the Preventers." She shrugged and handed Trowa the telefax, bowed slightly, and left. 

Trowa let go of Dozé's hand, and studied the fax. "From the Ringmaster?" he murmured in surprise. The icy stab of dread returned. Something was wrong. He opened the fax. And his heart plunged somewhere near his feet. 

Sensing something wrong, Dozé tugged on Trowa's jeans. "What ith it Uncle Trowa?" 

"Catherine is missing," Trowa managed to say evenly, even though his heart was in his throat while somehow being in his feet at the same time. He didn't want to lie to him. 

"Who ith Catherine?" 

Trowa clutched the telefax as if it were a lifeline, wishing it would suddenly change into a secret code, something, anything, so that it wouldn't mean what it said. Catherine is missing. Catherine is gone. 

"She's . . . my heart sister. You may as well think of her as your Aunt Catherine." They'd always suspected the connection, and genetic testing had proved it, but he knew she was a sister of the heart more than a sister of the blood. 

Trowa made a snap decision. He had to find her. He wondered how he could take Dozé with him; Quatre had trusted him enough to leave his heir with him, and Trowa did not want to violate that trust. Ah . . . of course.

"We'll need to make a field trip to Colony Four. How would you like to go to the circus?" Trowa hated the thought of putting Quatre's heir in danger, but the boy would be safe enough with the Ringmaster. Of course, Trowa had though Catherine was safe enough with the Ringmaster as well. But he couldn't just dump Dozé with his aunts with no warning. They were all hardworking business women. They'd been more than happy to let Quatre take the boy in after his mother died. 

Dozé broke into another one of his infectious grins, the ones that had Quatre wrapped around his little finger. "I've never been to the circuth. But what about Uncle Quatre?" He pointed to the shuttle, through the spaceport window. "He's there. He can't go with us." 

"No, he can't," Trowa said, standing up again. "But we'll be back long before he is." I hope, he added silently. 

Dozé thought seriously for a few moments, then nodded wisely. "We won't tell him we went to the circuth without him, Uncle Trowa. That way he won't be mad." 

Trowa sighed, and took the boy's hand again. It would have to do. 

* * * 

"T-80." 

"Launch is all green," the main technician said. "You boys in there ready?" 

"We're ready." 

"T-75." 

"Here we go, man," Duo said, double checking to make sure his helmet was locked on securely. They'd be wearing space suits for the entirety of the flight, as a safety precaution. Zero-G did nasty things to a human for extended periods of time, and if the cabin became depressurized, it was better to be already suited. "This is gonna be one wild ride." 

"If you say so," Heero said, checking his own helmet as well. "I just agreed to pilot so I could make sure Relena was safe." 

"Uh huh," Duo said, disbelieving. 

"T-60." 

"So . . . what are you going to say to her?" 

"I don't know," Heero said flatly. 

* * *

Relena curled her fingers around the armrest again, the fabric interior of her space suit gloves suddenly feeling cloying and damp. Across the aisle, Quatre looked faintly green in his space suit helmet. 

"Heero," she whispered for no reason at all. 

* * *

"Come on, Heero, I'm a romantic at heart," Duo swooned, gesturing dramatically. "You're the only one out of the group who hasn't admitted his feelings for the one he loves. Even Trowa and Quatre are braver than you. At least they spend time with each other. All you do is ignore her and fester in your own guilt."

"T - 30." 

"Hnn." Heero grunted and gave Duo another Death Glare. Duo laughed, and began to flip more flight switches. Heero joined him, and for a few moments, they moved through a complicated choreography of dancing toggles and levers. 

An auto stewardess came on. "Please remember to fasten your seat belts and have your trays in the locked and upright position. Thank you for flying with United." 

"I can't believe they left _that_ on," Duo complained. "How cheesy! Our big moment, and they had to ruin it with a stewardess." He throttled the engines up to full blast. Those in the shuttle could no longer hear the countdown, but it appeared on the dashboard in large red LCD numbers. 

* * * 

Trowa heard the countdown, and saw it as well. He whispered along with the head technician. "T -10 . . . nine . . .eight . . . seven . . . six," he squeezed Dozé's hand once more, as much for the boy's comfort as for his own. If something went wrong and they lost Quatre... ". . .five. . .four. . .three. . .two. . .one. . ." 

And with a mighty roar, the prototype Vernier rockets blasted the shuttle away from the Side's dock. 

* * * 

The were accelerating at nearly two and a half Gs, which may not seem like a lot, but it was plenty uncomfortable for the shuttle occupants. 

"I hate this part," Duo choked out, resisting the instinct to shut his eyes. 

"Doesn't everyone?" Heero agreed, as they strained against the inertial forces. 

* * *

In the cabin, the team of six suffered through the takeoff in silence. Relena drew strength from the thought of Heero in the cabin. Quatre thought of Trowa, and his nephew, waiting for him to return. Trowa hadn't wanted to go, surprising Quatre, but had instead volunteered to take care of Dozé while Quatre was away. 

* * * 

Inside the Side shuttle port, the post-launch celebration had already begun. Someone had actually broken out a bottle of champagne, and a regular party had somehow started up amidst the control panels and technical readouts. 

Trowa watched the shuttle fly off until it was a tiny dot. He continued watching for a long time after it had disappeared, until Dozé impatiently tugged on his arm. 

"It'th gone now, Uncle Trowa," Dozé said sadly. 

"Yes," Trowa said, but he did not move. 

"Don't you havta go to Colony Four and find your sithter?" Dozé's clear, intelligent gaze pinned Trowa down. 

Trowa blinked and looked at the boy in surprise. He was only seven, but as Quatre had pointed out, he was as perceptive as adults ten times his age. 

"You're right. Let's go." Trowa glanced once more at the empty viewscreen, and led Dozé Winner through the swarm of celebrating technicians. 

* * * 

The initial burst of acceleration finally tapered off, and they settled down into a zero-G environment. Duo gasped and leaned back, taking off his helmet and breathing the recycled, pure air of the pilot's cabin. 

"Man, that was worse than even Deathscythe ever did to me. I have a feeling that's what Tallgeese must have felt like . . . my _insides_ are all _squished_ . . . I don't wanna do that again anytime soon." 

"If this whole trip is a hoax, you'll be doing it again in fourteen hours." Heero also took off his helmet, and hung it casually from a peg on the cockpit wall. 

"I'll have had a nice nap before then. It'll feel like tomorrow. Speaking of naps . . . you want the first break, or shall I?" 

"Go ahead," Heero said, waving Duo away. "I can't face her yet." 

"Man, Heero, you gotta get your life straightened out. Stop procrastinating." Duo stood up and set his helmet on the copilot's chair. 

"I don't see you protesting the first break," Heero commented, deadpan. 

Duo quirked his lips in a half grin and left his best friend to figure it out. When he stepped outside the cockpit door, Relena glanced up sharply. The six passengers had also removed their helmets, and Duo saw that her hair was piled on top, in a style he'd only seen once before, when she was acting Queen of the World. Upon seeing Duo instead of Heero, a flicker of disappointment crossed over her face. Oh yes, as much as she'd deny it, the princess was still very much in love with Heero. She pretended to have been glancing around the cabin nonchalantly. 

Looks like they both need my help. Gee, I never thought I'd be playing matchmaker for them... 

He walked down the cabin aisle, ostensibly toward Quatre, with whom he intended to have a good gabfest before he took his nap. But as he passed by Relena, he touched her shoulder, and quietly said to her, "There's an empty seat next to Heero, now, you know." 

She looked at him, startled, and blinked. Duo winked back before making a show of plunking down next to Quatre. No one else in the cabin seemed to have had noticed the exchange. 

Relena, being herself, resisted temptation as long as she could. She was over Heero. She was. She really was. 

But this was a chance to at least talk to him . . . as friends... 

After a few moments, she scurried up to the cockpit door, held her breath, and went inside. 

* * *

Heero almost jumped when the cockpit door opened. During the war, he'd learned that Duo refused to enter the cabin except for emergencies when it was his break time. A quick glance at the slight shadow on the console informed him that it wasn't Duo, though. Another glance at the faint reflection on the windshield confirmed his nightmare: it _was _Relena. 

"Heero," she said softly. 

He squinted his eyes shut in frustration. He wasn't ready to face her. He never was. All she had to do was say his name and he could no longer think clearly. Damn the woman. 

She entered the cockpit quietly, her space suit not quite hiding the gentle curves of her slender figure. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, in the latest Gibson girl revival style, with two wings of hair framing her face as always. She sat gracefully in the copilot's seat, taking care not to touch anything. She'd transformed into a true beauty in the last year, her face displaying the same elegant bone structure that made her brother appear like the prince he was. 

She clasped her hands on her lap, primly, and stared ahead. Heero was only slightly mollified that she was as nervous as he. She was silent for a long time, but then spoke softly, her mellifluous voice trained by years of political hardball to display exactly the emotion she wished. "It's funny, really. I've thought about meeting you again . . . after the wedding. But now I don't know what to say." 

"Hnn." Heero didn't know what to say either. 

Relena smiled faintly to herself. "Maybe I should ask you to kill me again, for old time's sake." 

He glanced at her, not quite believing his ears. "Or maybe, 'how are you?' is a good place to start." 

"Of course." She smiled again, willing to play the game. "How are you, Heero?" 

He looked at her from the corned of his eyes again. "I asked you first." Good gods, was he actually flirting with her? He steeled himself. I will not lose it. I will not lose it. She doesn't belong to you Heero. She never can. She never will. 

"Ah," Relena permitted herself a small laugh, and tried to cross her legs, no mean feat in a space suit. She rearranged her legs awkwardly a few times before giving up. Composure instantly regained, she tried a different tack. A direct approach. "I've missed you terribly, Heero." 

Heero decided a blow in the gut would have been less damaging. His heart ached as if her words were a physical assault. She just couldn't see that they were worlds apart, that it would never work, no matter how much they each longed for each other. 

"I know you don't feel the same way about me as I did . . . as I do about you, Heero," she said, fighting a childlike urge to sniffle. Pouting was not the best tactic to take with Heero. Honesty was a lot more brutal, and worked better. "But you could have at least said good-bye. That's three times you've left me without a word now, Heero." 

"It's not that," he ground out, still not looking at her. "You have your world, and a murderer like me has no part in it." 

"Did you ever think to ask me if I wanted you in 'my world?'" she objected, feeling herself grow cross. This wasn't going quite the way she had planned. "'My world,' as you put it, would always include you, no matter what. Heero," she pleaded, leaning across and resting her hand on his arm. Heero jumped as if even through two space suits she burned him. "We're friends. I don't ever want to lose you as a friend." 

He clasped her hand with his other own, and gently lifted it from his arm, looking at her directly for the first time. "I need to make sure you are safe. I promised to protect you. As long as you are safe, then we can both get on with our lives." 

Heero wished he could take the words back as soon as he'd said them. 

Relena kept her face carefully blank, but he could see that he'd hurt her. Good. If she was mad at him, then she'd keep her distance. 

"Do I truly mean so little to you? A princess in a tower, content to know that her knight will keep her safe?" Her expression softened, and she stood up. "Heero, maybe I don't want protection from you. Maybe I just want company. You're the only person who has ever understood me." She trailed her gloved hand across his cheek, and left the cockpit. 

Heero wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he heard her mutter "idiot" as she left. He slumped in his seat, then stared at the ceiling above him. "I blew it," he said to no one in particular. 

* * * 

"So how ya been, Quatre? You and Trowa ever gonna tie the knot?" 

"Oh no," Quatre said, blushing furiously. "It's not like that. We're just good friends." 

"Suuuure. A little birdie told me that you've named your nephew your sole heir. I take it that means your sisters got you reinherited?" 

Quatre gratefully latched onto the subject change. His relationship with Trowa, unstable and unsure as it was, was not something he wanted to discuss with anyone just yet. "Yes. My sister Loreana managed to pull a few legal strings last year. They also granted me custody of my oldest nephew. You remember that he lost he mom last year, and I've been taking care of him?" Duo nodded, he'd learned that much at the wedding. "All his aunts agree that he's a quiet genius. He reminds me of Trowa --" Quatre cut himself off before he went any further with that line of thought. Everything reminded him of Trowa. The shuttle reminded him of Trowa. His space suit reminded him of Trowa. The old magazine in the seat in front of him reminded him of Trowa. That was what love did to a person, after all... "What about you and Hilde? Hasn't she coerced you into marriage yet?" 

Duo nearly choked. "Marry? Hilde? No way." He burned even more brightly red than Quatre. "I'm going to be a bachelor forever. Hilde is a..." he searched for an adequate phrase to describe the wonderful package that was Hilde, and found one. "She's a business partner." 

"A business partner you live with," Quatre pointed out, his eyes feigning innocence. 

Duo pursed his lips and scowled prettily. "We have separate rooms." 

"Suuure," Quatre teased, echoing Duo from a few minutes before. Before Duo could respond, however, Relena stepped out of the cockpit door, looking almost upset and amused at the same time. She sighed and went back to her seat, unsteady in the absence of gravity, ignoring the rest of the group, who all pretended not to be looking at her. 

"Looks like Heero blew it," Duo whispered to Quatre. 

"I think you're right. Poor Heero." 

"Yeah, well, I'm not giving up. They belong together, he's just on this weird kick that he's not worthy of her, or something." Duo yawned mightily, and stretched. "Well, I'm off to catch forty winks. Say hi to Trowa for me, Quatre," he said, winking at Quatre. 

"I tell you, it's not like that," Quatre denied, blushing again. 

Duo smirked and rolled his eyes. 

* * * 

The passengers eventually all fell asleep, except Heero, who stared at the controls, tortured by his own inadequacies and pain. 

* * *

Trowa and Dozé had to wait nearly twelve hours before a transport became available to take them to Colony Four. He was getting more and more worried, especially as the cameras showed reports of the riots on Colony Four. Trowa hoped Catherine wasn't caught in any of them. 

* * * 

Catherine woke up in a dark but warm place. Her head hurt. She tried to feel other parts of her body, but the pounding in her skull demanded the full attention of her consciousness. 

What happened? She tried to remember the last few day's events. She had gone along with the crowd, and found herself angry at Relena Peacecraft for bringing them into another war. No, wait, that wasn't right . . . Relena hated war as much as she herself... 

Catherine tried to clear her head by shaking it, a mistake. The pounding grew worse. "Hello?" she cried, struggling to move. She was tied up tightly in a chair. "Someone? Anyone?" she faltered, then began struggling harder. "Trowa, help me..." she cried, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

* * * 

Trowa thought he heard Catherine call his name. He did not dismiss psychic phenomena easily -- no one could deny the deep bond that Heero and Relena shared, one that according to Heero had formed within the space of a few moments on the Earth. 

Dozé Winner had stayed true to his name, and had nodded off on the seat next to him. 

Catherine had last been seen on Colony Four, the night the first of the riots started. His instincts told him that it wasn't a coincidence. 

* * *

"Are you sure the girl has no family?" the woman in black said to the man. They were in their darkened office on Colony Four, deep within the bowels of an otherwise empty office building. They'd acquired the office building several weeks ago, after learning that the top floor was a greenhouse. They both liked that. The office itself was spacious and dim, and thanks to the non efforts of the man, already becoming cluttered beyond belief. But the Buttercup project had to go on, and the woman didn't have time to pick up after her sloppy partner. 

The Humperdinck Project had been renamed the Buttercup project, a name that was no better than its predecessor, in the woman's opinion. The only thing worse than starting a war based on the plot of a book was starting a war based on the plot of a book that made fun of itself. 

"None on record. Her name is Catherine Bloom. Her family was killed when she was little. She was raised in the circus. And what can a bunch of clowns do to stop us?" The man leaned against his desk, lighting a cigarette. He smiled to himself. The girl was perfect, absolutely perfect for their plans. The preliminary interrogation had let them know that she hated war more than anything, and would do everything short of actually starting one herself to prevent it. The irony was impeccable. 

"We need to keep her unconscious until that mission returns. If our data is correct, we'll be able to completely indoctrinate her afterward." The woman extinguished his cigarette in annoyance, pinching the end with her bare fingers. "Wesley, I do wish you'd stop smoking those damn things. New lungs are expensive." 

"After this project, dear Willow, we'll be able to afford a dozen lungs." He lit another cigarette, perversely, and smirked at his business partner. "And things are going extremely well. I couldn't have genetically engineered a more perfect specimen than the girl." 

"Genetic engineering is not only the wrong term and illegal, it's impossible." Willow Sable, the science half of the brains behind the Buttercup Project, dug around a file cabinet drawer and extracted a box of sterile syringes. She unwrapped one, and pulled out a small vial from the drawer, and filled the syringe with the dark blue liquid. "This will put her back to sleep for another two days. By then we'll know if this mission is a success or not." 

"What if it isn't? What if there are no aliens?" Wesley, in charge of the actual cult formation, had left all the techie stuff to his brainiac partner. 

"Oh, there are. I never did show you the second video, did I? Not even the little exploration party got to see that. I have some contacts in very high places in the science institute." She picked up a remote control from on top of the file cabinet, and flicked on a tiny thirteen inch viewscreen in the corner. "Now tell me there aren't aliens out there." 

Wesley's jaw dropped open, the cigarette falling unheeded to the ground. "Holy shit," he choked out. 

Willow smiled. That little video had cost her dearly; her Geneveve Switzer Brilliant Pink, to be exact. She wasn't kidding when she said she had friends in high places. 

On the screen, three human-like figures marched across a silver floor, their violet cloaks vivid against the starry background. 

* * * 

With two hours left in the journey, both Heero and Duo were back in the cockpit. Relena had thankfully been asleep when Heero had gone on his break. Duo did not mention how Relena had fidgeted until she'd fallen asleep, reading information she'd been given about the nature of the object. Heero did not mention what had happened, either. They worked in companionable silence for the remainder of the voyage. 

The Object appeared as a dull twinkle in the center of the star field through the viewscreen. It had been growing steadily brighter as they approached; the shiny metal had a much higher albedo than its asteroid neighbors. 

"Time to decelerate," Duo said softly. The shuttle had behaved very nicely during the last leg of the trip, and he hoped that it wouldn't give them any trouble now that they were so close to their goal. 

"Ne, Heero," Duo said, gently lowering a lever, " is it just me, or does something feel strange about this?" 

"About what?" Heero answered, adjusting a lever himself. 

"This whole trip . . . thing." He waved his hand vaguely. "It's all to neat. Too cut and dried. Bizarre object appears, lets send an expedition! and it happens to include four Gundam pilots, and two world leaders." 

"We volunteered to go," Heero reminded him. 

"Something just doesn't feel right." Duo sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Or maybe I'm just nervous. Damn, I wish Hilde were here. I could use a back rub." Duo smirked casually at Heero. "Say, Heero, you think --" 

"No." 

"You don't even know what I was going to ask! Well, that's just fine then." Duo sulked and adjusted their speed some more. 

* * * 

"We're almost there," Lady Une said, standing up. "Please put your helmets back on. We don't know what we're going to encounter out there -- atmospheric contaminants, dead life forms . . . Dr. O Malley will run an atmospheric analyzer, but even so, no one is to remove their helmets. Understood?" 

For the first time, the passengers could see the details of the Object. It loomed in their view screens, a titanium monstrosity with highlights of metallic purple. Lady Une glanced out of one of the modified shuttle windows, and silently prayed to whatever gods may be that the beings they were about to encounter weren't hostile. She alone had been privy to viewing the second video besides the scientists, and it was she who had convinced them that they needed a diplomat along. Not even her team of Preventers, Sally and Wu-Fei, knew what they were going to find. 

* * * 

"Damn! Something just took over my controls!" Duo yelped. He began frantically trying to regain control, but whatever had the ship in its hold wasn't letting go. 

"Mine too. We're caught in some sort of guidance system." Heero was much calmer than his copilot. 

"We're just gonna let them . . . it . . . whatever . . . get away with this? Fire the accelerator!" He reached over do just that. 

"No, it would be a waste of fuel. This is what we wanted, isn't it?" Heero released his controls at stared at the Object, looming ever closer in their field. 

"Heero, you're acting weird. Stop freaking me out, man." He tried desperately to regain control of the shuttle, but to no avail. "I don't like this at all. Why are you so cool with this?" 

Heero shrugged. "I've got . . . a gut instinct that everything we will all right. And when everything else fails, trust your emotions, remember?" 

Duo sighed and gave in. "Yeah, I suppose. But I don't have to like it." 

"I never said I liked it. But it's not as if we have choice." 

* * * 

Those in the cabin were oblivious to the plight of the pilots, who had decided not to scare everyone. The Object sucked them into its gleaming maw, the shiny metal reflecting their own dingy shuttle perfectly. It was a silent cruising, still in the vacuum of space. The passage was clean of any bumps, like the manifestation of a perfect mathematical construct, glassy smooth. 

"It looks so empty," Quatre whispered. 

"It does," Lady Une agreed, biting her lip. Had they been wrong? Was it a derelict after all? Was all this for nothing?

* * *

Their controls suddenly came back online, and they floated freely for a few seconds before Heero realized that whatever had had them in its grips had let go. They had been pulled into a large, hollow chamber. 

"I think it's a landing bay." Heero said, and worked a few microthrusters so that they gently touched the nearest surface to the bottom. 

"Holy shit . . . there's gravity!" Duo cried as they suddenly felt a familiar pull. It was a welcome respite from the zero-G they'd endured during the flight. "What the hell . . . something this size shouldn't be putting out anywhere near this much gravity..." 

"The chamber is pressurizing," Heero said, even his voice registering a note of surprise. "It looks like a mix of carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen, with other trace gases." 

* * * 

"Look! A door is opening!" Duo said in a hushed, awed voice. The six passengers in the cabin stood up, unconsciously. A faint vapor seeped out from underneath the door, illuminated by bright floodlights on the other side. Their chamber was dim, and the effect when three shadows appeared was as dramatic as it had been calculated to be. 

They were humans, or humanoid, as the old Earth term described the general shape of two arms, two legs, a torso, and a head. Although they were but vague, fog smeared shadows, their robes flapped around two obvious legs, and their arms pulled the top portions tightly around them, like bats. They processed slowly toward the shuttle. 

"They sure know how to make an entrance," Duo said, as he flipped on the cabin loudspeaker. "Lady Une, did you guys have any idea that . . . that . . .?" Even Duo was at a loss for words as suddenly all the lights in the chamber came on at once. 

The three aliens stopped a dozen meters away from the shuttle. They had human like faces, except they were in shades of maroon, with hair in shades of gray. One was noticeably shorter than the others. Duo had a sudden insight that she was a young female. 

He flipped the cabin loudspeaker again. "Damn, Heero, what the hell did we get ourselves into?" 

"Hnn," Heero said, unable to answer his best friend's question. 

* * *

"I suppose we go out," Relena said. "They look peaceful enough." 

"Everything looks peaceful to you," Wu-Fei muttered darkly. Sally nudged him every so slightly with her elbow. 

"You're right," Lady Une reluctantly said to Relena, ignoring her Preventers. "Something feels wrong, though." She opened the hatch to the shuttle. Outside, the lights brightened even more, so that the landing bay appeared as bright as daylight on Earth. Sally exited first, followed by Lady Une and Relena, who were flanked by Quatre and Dr. O' Malley. Wu-fei finished the small party. Heero and Duo had opted to stay inside the shuttle as backup. Relena, Lady Une, and Wu-Fei were all wired to a panic button. 

The humans and the aliens faced off, five against three, each waiting for the other to make the first move. 

Relena finally decided that all the standing around was silly, and she stepped forward. Still in her full space suit, she raised her hands, palm up, in what she hoped was a gesture for peace, showing that she held no weapons. 

The middle alien spoke. "You may take your suits off," he said in a pleasant bass -- and in perfect, _perfect_ Japanese. 

Relena's eyes widened to saucers, but to her credit, she kept her cool. Mentally apologizing to Lady Une, she reached up and took off her helmet. 

Lady Une jumped as though she wanted to grab Relena, but Quatre stopped her. She glared at him for an instant, but he just shook his head. 

Relena was foolish, but she believed that only an idealist could reach for the clearest visions of mankind. She breathed the air deeply. It was clean and crisp, and smelled faintly of wisteria or lavender. 

"You are trusting," the middle alien said again, his voice laced with genuine amusement. "That is good. In this universe of ours, so few are willing to trust anymore." He bowed. "I am Captain Zwit, of the Novie. To my left is General Threigh, and to my right is Lietenant Forwa." They each nodded as he recognized them. 

The tallest of them was Threigh. He was lean and hardened, his salt and pepper gray hair cut short, barely curling behind his ears. Zwit was only slightly shorter, although his size was much greater. The female appeared even younger up close. Relena was startled to see she was even younger than she herself had been before the start of the war. The girl appeared as calm and composed as the two older men next to her, however. And the one who called himself Zwit was also devastatingly handsome, by human standards. 

Relena bowed in return. How they spoke Japanese would have to remain a mystery for the moment. She was already planning on killing Lady Une with her bare hands for dragging her into this with no warning -- later, though. Calmness now. Relena breathed in and out slowly. Reality is stranger than fiction. 

"I am Relena Peacecraft. With me are Lady Une, Doctor O' Malley, Quatre Raberba Winner, Preventer Sally Po, and Preventer Chang Wu-Fei. I am the Vice Foreign Minister of the New Earth Alliance." She had chosen her words carefully. The last thing she needed was Zwit saying 'take me to your leader.' 

"There are two more on the ship," Zwit said casually. 

He's good, Relena said. Her face betrayed nothing. "They are our pilots. Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell. They wish to remain inside." 

* * * 

"You gettin' all this, Heero? Man, am I gonna have a tale to tell Hilde..." 

"You'll do nothing of the sort. This is going to be so top secret . . . just think, they'll say Relena's gone over to the other side . . ." 

Duo rolled his eyes. "You're imagining things, Heero. Oh, look, Relena's taking off her suit..." 

Heero pretended he did not take a sudden interest in the disrobing of a certain diplomat. 

* * * 

"You may take off your suits, if you like," Zwit said. They were still squared off, five against three. "Our temperatures tend to be warmer than those of your world, from the information we have analyzed so far." 

Relena unzipped her suit, and wished there were a more graceful way to get out of the silly things as she nearly tripped and fell flat on her face taking it off. She was glad she'd chosen the dark blue power suit over the pink one; the Novie seemed to prefer bold colors, judging from their own royal purple robes. Out of seemingly nowhere a fourth Novie appeared, carrying a cart with oddly heighted rods on it. The Novie took her suit before she'd had a chance to even wonder what to do with it, and hung it on a peg. Ah, a clothes rack, then. 

"Feel free to use that as long as you need," Zwit said, the slightest hint in his voice. The other five humans reluctantly took off their suits, the Novie rushing to gather them and hang them up. 

"Follow me," Zwit said. As one, his entourage turned to face the door, and they retreated towards it. But Relena could have sworn she'd seen the young female give her a faintly timid smile before she turned completely. 

A friend, Relena thought suddenly. No matter what else happened, that girl was on their side, she decided. Relena knew she had a habit of making snap judgments -- Heero was her most famous example of that fault, but hadn't she been dead on with him? 

So she followed them, the rest of the humans tagging raggedly compared to the precision of the Novie, none of them knowing quite what to expect. 

* * * 

Heero and Duo watched the party leave the landing bay. 

"You're just gonna let her go off with them, eh?" 

"She's safe with Sally and Wu-fei there." 

"Uh huh. So," Duo said casually, leaning back in his chair, "what exactly did you say to Relena to piss her off so much?" 

"I don't want to talk about it." Heero glowered at the console. 

"Sure you don't," Duo said with a knowing grin." 

"I don't." 

"You sure?" Duo's grin got wider. C'mon, Heero... 

"I'm not going to tell you, Duo." 

"I know." 

"It's not of your business." 

"I know." 

"Quit smirking. It's not as if I did anything wrong." 

"Of course . . . you never make mistakes." 

Heero gave him the coldest Death Glare he'd ever seen. But he had to make Heero crack, or else his plans for matchmaking would go down the tubes. For now, though, a feral glint in Heero's eyes warned him to back off. 

"I wonder how they're doing in there," Duo mused, letting the subject drop for the moment. 

Out of nowhere, a heavy silence fell over the two pilots, like a layer of deepest black velvet, muffling and blinding them all at once. They both slumped forward in their seatbelts, unconscious. 

* * * 

The trio of Novie led the way through silvery corridors. Overhead, the lighting was gentle and muted, the ceiling a frosted silver that reflect the lighting all around, bathing everything in even, bluish light. They walked in silence. 

How is it that they speak Japanese? Relena wondered. True, the language was one of the three most common on Earth now, and it was the language pretty much everyone in the colonies used along with English, but the odds of the same language developing on another planet . . . no, they had to have been studying Earth for some time, she decided. So they knew of the wars, and hopefully their current peace. 

They had landed in a nacelle of the giant vessel, and they had been walking toward the middle. The hallway led to an open circular courtyard, and a clear dome replaced the silvery ceiling, so that star shine bled in, mingling with the ambient lighting from hidden sconces in the walls. Greenery burst from every corner, and the plants bloomed in all colors, a marked contrast from the oppressive gray and purple of the rest of the ship. The courtyard was evidently a common area, as there were hundreds of Novie milling about, some sitting on benches, talking, others hurrying purposefully. They all seemed to be wearing gauzy silver clothing, in contrast to the formal purple robes of Zwit, Threigh, and Forwa. 

"Those who live on the ship are very glad to see you," Zwit said to the humans, turning his head ever so slightly over his shoulder. 

Some of the other Novie had paused to look at the humans, in curiosity. Quatre waved shyly. Dr. O' Malley had whipped out a notebook and was writing as fast as he could. Relena tried to not to appear rude as she secretly gawked. 

"This way," Zwit said, and led them down another corridor. This one was much wider and shorter than the landing bay corridor had been, and purple doors line the walls. He pressed his palm in the center of one door, and it opened with the hiss of hydraulics, revealing a large conference room. Relena grinned suddenly. Dr. O Malley would fit right in here, if no one else would. 

Zwit gestured for them to sit, but he himself remained standing, and he paced around the room, restless. The short female whispered something to Zwit, who shooed her away with a smile. She glanced shyly at Relena one more time before leaving. 

"I'm sorry for the formality back there. We are a very proper race, in some respects, and that particular tradition has dated back since we first came into contact with other intelligent beings. You're probably wondering how we speak your language. It's quite simple -- we've been receiving broadcasts from your world from the last hundred years or so on our journey. It was added to our catalogue of languages, and a few doses of hypnotic language treatment allowed me to learn it fairly quickly. It's a rather lovely language, I must say, phonetically not unlike our own. In fact, we two races seem to have much in common. But I digress." 

Zwit finally took his seat. For the first time, Relena noticed that his fingers -- as well as those of the other two Novie -- ended not in three joints, like humans, but with four smaller joints, with large claws on the ends. It was a very disorienting effect -- their hands appeared to be broken and too long at the same time. 

"We have come here in peace," Zwit began again, "to warn you of a danger that may be headed your way. There is a race of mechanical monstrosities who attacked our world. They call themselves the Setche. They are brutal and merciless, seeking out worlds with natural resources, destroying their inhabitants, and clearing the way for their own colonization. We, the Novie, have dedicated our lives to warning the rest of the Galaxy of this impending disaster." He cast his eyes downward, suddenly appearing older, a few saddened lines forming around his otherwise handsome mouth. "Unfortunately, many of the peoples we find did not believe us or trust us. They are now gone. Some did not even bother to investigate a strange ship appearing in their solar system, or worse, they tried to shoot at us." He looked directly at Relena, who matched him stare for stare. She shivered, though. His eyes were icy cold. 

"We wish to help you prepare in case the Setche ever come and attack your world. That is our self-appointed mission. On our journey, we have acquired an enormous amount of defensive information that will allow you to withstand an attack by the Setche. In exchange, we ask merely for supplies to help us continue on our journey, to warn others of the threat of the Setche." 

There was contemplative silence around the table, as they each sunk into the contemplative whirlpool of their thoughts.

"If your require more time to think upon our offer, that is fine." He made a surprisingly human gesture, turning his palm upward, as if offering them more time from his hand. 

Relena startled the humans by standing up. This is why she had been sent along, wasn't it? 

"No more time is needed. We will accept your offer. And, thank you." She bowed deeply. Secretly, she hoped that she hadn't just struck a deal with the devil. 

* * * 

Darkness. Pain. Flashes of light. 

Heero woke up, screaming. Everything was blurred, in shades of black and white. He could not feel his arms and legs, and the world kept spinning. 

Images and sounds . . . he thought he saw Duo, dead and bleeding on a table across the room. "Duo!" he tried to shout, but nothing came out from his throat. 

Suddenly a face -- an alien face -- swam into focus above him. 

"He's awake," a voice said frantically, although the face above him didn't move. 

"Who..." Heero tried to shout again, but his throat was blocked. The face went out of focus, and the world blacked out once more. 

The next time he woke up, the pain was gone, although everything still seemed to be in black and white. Heero tried to rub his eyes clear, but he found he was strapped to a table, giving him flashbacks of that time he was strapped down in Sally's hospital. He craned his neck, and thought he saw Duo on the table next to him. 

A shadow appeared over him. 

"Who are you?" Heero asked, trying to sound as menacing as possible. 

"No one," the shadow answered, "you are imagining me." 

Heero strained to escape from his bonds, but back in Sally's hospital he'd been in peak condition, and since he'd become a pilot he'd slacked off on his training a lot. 

"What do you want from me?" 

"Know your strengths, Perfect Soldier," the voice said, and the shadow began to fade. "That is all we want. And know your weaknesses." 

The shadow was gone, and Heero closed his eyes. His head was still throbbing, but something was wrong. Am I dead? No, he'd been dead once before . . . it wasn't anything like this. This was too strange to be death. 

The velvet blackness enveloped him again, and Heero willingly fell into its embrace, allowing it to take him away from whatever it was that told him what he didn't want to hear -- that he was both weak and strong, and that he could not, as yet, tell the difference . . . 

* * *

The party was walking back down the corridors to the human's shuttle. Zwit had loosened his hitherto tightly wrapped cloak so that it billowed out behind him dramatically. Underneath, he wore a uniform not unlike that of Oz, although simpler and without the epilauts and gold trim. He was tall, and so similar to a human that Relena wondered if she had been wrong to become an atheist after the war. Conscious creation? 

"You can move your ship to Colony One," she said as they stood outside of the shuttle. "It has all the resources necessarily to replenish your supplies. You may go there anytime you wish; we'll make all the necessary arrangements." 

"Thank you," Zwit smarmed. "And to begin our exchange of knowledge, I'd like to send you a goodwill ambassador, Forwa, my daughter. She wants to go with you, if that's all right." The girl who had greeted them with Zwit and Threigh walked through the large door on cue. She, too, had opened up her cloak, and she was wearing a long lemon creamy dress that complemented her lavender skin and ash gray hair. "She is a highly skilled diplomat, and has full technical knowledge of all our defense systems. If you like, you may leave someone with us in exchange." 

Relena was startled. Leave one of the party behind? She glanced hesitantly at Quatre -- no, Trowa would kill her. Dr. O Malley? He was no diplomat. The same thing went for Sally and Wu-Fei, and it would be a little unfair to separate them, anyway. That left herself, and Lady Une. 

"I'll go," Lady Une said, simply. Relena sensed she'd switched to her calmer personality. The two Lady Unes may have merged after Treize's death, but even so, she switched "modes." Nice Lady Une had taken over. They did not need to worry about her. 

Lady Une stepped forward into Forwa's place. 

"Lady Une is one of our most respected officers," Relena said, following Zwit's example. "She was instrumental in developing the peace on our world in the past few years." 

Nice Lady Une looked the absolute picture of a shy, demure diplomat. She took off her glasses and smiled winsomely. Zwit looked pleased. 

"That is all settled, then. We will go to your colony, and we will meet again." 

The five humans and the Novie climbed the steps to the shuttle, the latter a little unsure of her footing but determined not to trip. A worker brought back their space suits, but Lady Une motioned to leave hers behind. She was already deep in conversation with the alien leader. 

* * * 

Heero and Duo groggily woke up, still in their pilots chairs, although neither remembered what had happened. 

"I can't believe we fell asleep. Some backup we are," Duo said, rubbing his face in irritation. 

"I have a feeling something important happened and we missed it," Heero said stonily. 

"Eh?" 

Heero was about to elaborate when Quatre opened the door,. 

"We're ready to leave any time, guys," he said, not sounding impatient, as that was not his nature, but he did have a hint of gentle reprovement in his voice. 

"That was quick. What'd those weird aliens have to say?" 

"Quick?" Quatre looked surprised. "We spent nearly six hours discussing everything from political beliefs to sanitation. Then we spent another two or three hashing out defense systems. We're all dead on our feet in here. And we picked up an extra passenger, but Lady Une's staying behind, so don't be surprised when you don't see her. I hope you guys had a good rest, at least..." Quatre yawned slightly, and politely covered up his mouth before leaving the cockpit. 

"Eight hours?" Duo said, staring at Heero. Heero stared back. 

"I know something happened. Why the hell can't I remember?" Heero grabbed his head in frustration. 

"Man, if I had napped for eight hours, I just know I'd feel better than this . . ." 

* * *

Forwa stared at the stars as they traveled. The humans had all fallen asleep, but she was fresh as a daisy still. Even as a child she'd only needed a few hours of sleep to keep going strong all day. 

Primitive. The rocket was primitive. But Father had said they had something that could help them. 

What? What did the humans have that could help the Novie on their never-ending quest? 

* * * 

[[][3]Ending Song: Watermark, by The Taliesin Orchestra] 

Episode Three: The humans return to find a divided Earth as the Keep Earth Pure/Anti-Alien League, led by Catherine, gains power. Trowa and Quatre discover many things about themselves, while Heero and Relena discover their loneliness. 

Want the lyrics for [][4]Airmail from the Moon? They are at the [][5]Anime Lyrics Library, courtesy of kaijyuu M of the [][6]Two Mix Electronic Library. The arrangement used at the beginning of each episode is by me, and is not official, nor very accurate. But it's pretty darn close, and you can sing along to it, too!

I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters in here so far. If I did, I would be rich, but alas, I'm obviously poor. Oh well. Gundam Wing is actually owned by Bandai Visual, Sotsu Agency, and TV Tokyo. Airmail from the Moon is ©1999 to Two Mix. It is used without permission, and will be taken down if either member of Two Mix complains. Watermark, Taliesin Mix is ©1995 to The Taliesin and Orchestra and Enya. It is also used without permission, and will be removed if anyone complains. 

   [1]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/index.html
   [2]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/airmail.mp3
   [3]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/watermark.mp3
   [4]: http://www.animelyrics.com/jpop/twomix/airmail.htm
   [5]: http://www.animelyrics.com/
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/kaijyuu_m/two-mix/index.html



	3. Episode Three: Searching for Hope

Episode Three, Part One

**Watermark**

[Back to the Index][1]

**Episode Three** : Searching for Hope

[**[Song: Airmail from the Moon]**][2]

_Warmly embraced by the planet far below  
My time is passing so quickly it frightens me to know  
Even our destined passion will have to fade someday  
I want to shine on forever, this love will find a way  
-- "Airmail from the Moon"_

Colony Four. Trowa stared up at the podium where the girl named Purity was addressing the crowds at a public meeting inside the Side Coliseum. Dozé Winner was safe with the Ringmaster on another Colony Side, enjoying a few days at the circus in the care of the only family Trowa knew. 

Purity was dressed in a black leather cat suit and a black leather trench coat. Her hair was slicked back, and she wore a pair of sunglasses. But Trowa knew. He knew the slender body, the bearing of her shoulders, the gentle angles of her face. She still wore her star earrings, a startling contrast to her otherwise conservative outfit. "Even now, as we speak, our own leaders are bringing an alien back to us. The invasion is beginning, I tell you. We must fight back now. before it is too late." She spoke in a clear, haughty, ringing voice, so unlike the gentle girl he called his sister. 

She sounds as if she wants to start a war, Trowa thought grimly. But Catherine hates war more than anything. Why would she be involved in something like this, let alone be in charge of it? 

"Are we just going to stand here?" she asked the crowd. 

"No!" everyone shouted gleefully. 

"Then get out there! We may not have weapons on this world to defend ourselves anymore, but that doesn't mean we're just going to let ourselves be taken over! Go!" She pointed towards the doors. "Let your voices be heard! Keep the Earth PURE!" 

Trowa just shook his head as the crowd nearly tripped over themselves in their enthusiasm to convert the entire colony to their cause. Catherine-Purity was very good. Very good indeed. He stared impassively at her as she left, then made his decision. 

* * * 

Willow was salivating. 

She was a botanist by training, and an orchid collector by hobby. The combination worked out very well, because she could tell a real orchid from one that had been genetically modified, or worse, simply dyed. She'd decided to become a botanist after someone handed her a dyed carnation when she was little, and she'd tried to dye her hair by drinking red kool aid. It took the gentle explanation of a fourth grade teacher before she was convinced that humans were not the same as plants and couldn't absorb dyes the same. 

The orchids now in front of her were the real thing, all right. 

"I've decided to sweeten the pot," her contact said, in the note enclosed in the bio-controlled box. "You've done such good work so far I though you deserved a treat." 

She cradled one perfect example of the Minty Cream Fantasia orchid. So rare. So incredible. The perfect cream petals had exactly three stripes of pale blue-green, and darker green freckles, with lime stamens and a blue-green heart. The colors contrasted beautifully against her toffee colored skin. It was as genuine as Mother Nature could make it. She'd have sold her soul to posses one before. Well, in some ways, she had sold her soul, when she thought about it.

She hadn't meant to get involved in starting a war, but her old friend and fellow orchid hunter, Wesley Twentyman, had lured her in with the promise of more money than she could ever need for rare orchids. Better yet, their "boss," a mysterious person who had yet to contact them directly, was also an orchid enthusiast, and had offered them rare flowers from his personal collection for a job well done. 

If the Minty Cream Fantasia was an example of what he had to offer... 

No regrets. Willow had vowed to have no regrets. She placed the little orchid down on the table again, and went to fetch Wesley, who would still be at the public meeting to introduce the girl Purity. The orchid would go into her collection, after she'd replanted it. She and Wesley were both so paranoid they kept their most prized orchids with them at all times. 

She was _very_ careful to lock their office door. 

And she ran back and double checked, just to make sure. 

* * * 

"Wonderful job," Wesley said, escorting Purity offstage, shooing away a few reporters. "Our message is being heard loud and clear across the Colony. Soon, we'll be able to declare our independence." 

Purity paused, her eyes clouding for a second behind her glasses. "Our . . . independence?" 

"Why, of course. We have just cause. If the Earth Sphere United Nation allows the aliens in, then we should form our own nation, free from them. The rest of the world will see our cause and follow." 

Purity was wavering. Wesley frowned. Her indoctrination had not been complete, apparently, if she was fighting it this much. 

Wesley was a specialist in "indoctrination." When he was in college with Willow, all those years before, he'd majored in psychology and learned a great deal more about the human mind than someone with no scruples like him ought to know. He'd cleaned up for a while as a televangelist (funding his rather expensive hobby) before getting bored and moving onto real cult formation. And even that had gotten boring. 

Wesley Twentyman was ambitious. 

One cult of a hundred people wasn't enough. A thousand people wasn't enough. Wesley wanted to be able to control the whole world. When their mysterious "Boss" had contacted him with the lucrative offer of orchids and money to start a war, Wesley felt that his ship had finally come in. He was not about to miss it because his figurehead wasn't taking his personality modifications. 

"Of course, if our message is heard, then the Earth Sphere will still be unified," Wesley hastened, slipping an arm around the confused girl's shoulders. "We must continue our quest to keep the Earth pure. If the Earth Sphere's leaders are competent, they will see the error of their ways and destroy the aliens." 

Apparently, Catherine's moment of weakness had passed, as she straightened and slipped out from Wesley's arm. "Don't touch me like that," she snapped, and stalked off to the taxi that was waiting for her outside the back door. 

Despite himself, Wesley smiled. The girl's base personality was nice, but she had real spunk. He hadn't had to change that one bit. 

* * * 

"No one sees Purity," the bouncer said to Trowa. 

"Not even her brother?" Trowa replied, matching the bodyguard Death Glare for Death Glare. 

"She has no brothers." 

"She'd recognize me if she saw me." 

"Go away, little man." 

Trowa's blank face nearly cracked. No one had ever called him_ little_ before. True, the bouncer outside of Purity's high rise condominium was probably three times his weight, and maybe an inch or two taller, but that didn't make Trowa _little_ by comparison. Trowa felt vaguely offended, but some human part inside of his soul wanted to burst out laughing. 

"Fine then," he said to the bouncer, and turned away. He walked down the Side street deep in thought. Now that he'd actually found Catherine, he could try another approach later. Appearing as an ally had worked before, and it would probably work again. In the meantime, he had to return Dozé to Colony One before Quatre came back. And he would see his Quatre again. 

My Quatre? When did I start thinking of him as mine? 

Trowa ignored the voice in his head. His feelings for the Arabian boy were in such a jumble that they only made sense when he was actually _with_ Quatre. Then, all felt right with the world. Then, Trowa was at peace. 

I wonder what they found out there, he thought , and gazed up and out to the side wall, to the impassive stars that hung outside. 

* * * 

Quatre, Relena, Dr. O' Malley, the pilots, and the Preventers escorted the wide-eyed Forwa off the shuttle. Forwa had considered herself jaded, having been to a dozen different world's in her people's travels, but the sheer number of humans that were there to greet them astounded her. Everywhere, people were crowding in on the sanitary bubble dome that had been erected around the shuttle as soon as it landed. The press had been kept away, since they would all be quarantined for a few days, but even so, they were surrounded by support personnel galore. The group protected her as they stepped through a disinfectant gate, and then continued on toward the medical quarters of the Side's shuttle port, for further testing of the passengers. 

"I'm sorry if we're coming off as rather paranoid," Relena said, her spacesuit helmet tucked under her arm as they walked through the hallways of the heart of the Side. Forwa had declined the spare spacesuit they had in the shuttle, explaining that she was used to space travel and nothing really bothered her. Relena had decided not to press the point, since Forwa's overly long fingers wouldn't fit in a human spacesuit glove anyway. 

"Trowa!" Quatre suddenly burst out, and smiled and waved enthusiastically to the tall boy waiting for them in the medical area, who waved back. Dozé waved back as well, although timidly and with eyes even wider than Forwa's had been. 

"Trowa?" Forwa said, tilting her head to one side in a startlingly human gesture. 

"Well, your father did say that we shared some similar speech patterns," Relena said thoughtfully, as a nurse helped her out of her spacesuit. "Trowa's not that common of a name among us, though." 

"Forwa isn't either. Common among us, I mean. It's a word from the Mransgst language that means "delightful." My father has a fascination with languages." Forwa smiled slightly. "He speaks about two hundred, all told, and most of those without the aid of hypnosis, unlike me. If it weren't for hypnosis language sessions, I wouldn't be speaking with you as we are now." 

Trowa had a very shocked expression on his face as Quatre hugged him as enthusiastically as he had hugged his nephew. Relena resisted the childish urge to giggle. Everyone knew that the two former pilots loved each other except themselves. 

All the humans who had been onboard were subjected to a complete mini-physical by a team of medical assistants and nurses. They took their temperature, blood pressure, blood samples, and even a breathalyzer sample. Dr. O' Malley started to herd some medical doctors over to see Forwa, but Relena blocked them as soon as she saw what they were doing, much to the chagrin of the doctor who had been in the middle of taking her blood pressure. 

"No," she said firmly, shielding the girl behind her, in a stance that reminded Heero of the way she'd shielded him from Duo when they were on the naval ship during the war. The blood pressure cuff hung off her arm, and the poor doctor was frantically timing a measurement from a crouched position next to her. 

Why did Relena feel like she needed to protect everyone? Heero wondered, then he answered his own question. Same reason I feel the need to protect her, I suppose. He sighed, earning him a reproachful look from the person taking his temperature. 

"She's not a human, therefore, there is no need to run human medical tests on her! Sally, please," Relena mouthed silently, turning a pleading look to the Preventer. 

"Miss Relena's right," Sally said on cue, breaking away from the nurse testing her, stepping in and shooing the gaggle of doctors away from the confused alien. "We don't need to test her for anything. Run any tests you like on us, but leave her alone." 

"But-" Dr. O 'Malley tried to interject. His team of scientists had been anticipating the wealth of xenobiotic information they could obtain on the Novie from the girl, and had flocked en masse to greet her. Now the Vice Foreign Minister was overstepping her bounds. 

"No 'buts.' Also, Forwa will be staying with my on Colony One. Cancel any plans you had to keep her here." Relena's Death Glare even impressed Heero. He hadn't known she was capable of a Death Glare, let alone one to rival his own. But Dr. O' Malley failed to wilt under the icy stare; instead, his eyes grew colder to match it.

"Very well. But we must keep you all under observation." 

"Of course. For the next week, as planned. But not here in the medical facilities. We have too much to do." 

"We can't just let you leave. We--" 

"Dr. O' Malley, when you invited me along on this mission, you entrusted me with all the aspects of it that were diplomatic. In the name of diplomacy, we are not going to stay here any longer than is necessary. I am hereby taking control of Forwa and all that happens with the Novie." 

"What's going on?" Forwa whispered to Sally, her face frowning in confusion. 

"A battle of wills. Relena is winning," Sally answered with a smile. 

It was becoming evident to Dr. O' Malley that Relena was winning as well, so he snapped his jaw shut and frowned as Relena, finally freed from the doctors who had been testing her, brushed past him. A cloud of Preventers greeted the group, absorbed them, and escorted them to a briefing room in another portion of the shuttle port, away from the angry scientists. 

"I can't believe he tried to keep us there," Duo grumbled to Heero in a low voice as they walked inside the room behind the group. "I mean, we're quarantined to the Side as it is. And I just don't like that O' Malley character." 

"Neither do I," Heero agreed. He and Duo took seats along the sides, while Relena naturally went towards the head of the room. How much of her life is spent in rooms such as this, nowadays? Heero wondered again. It was amazing how little he knew of her now. He'd been watching her hawkishly for two years, yet he knew next to nothing of her daily routines, just her traveling habits. 

He frowned as Relena began the long, boring process of debriefing the Preventers over the last twenty-four hours, leading up to Lady Une's decision to stay behind as a diplomatic contact. The Preventers, upon hearing of the loss of their leader, were naturally anxious, until Relena assured them that it was only temporary. Sally, as the next in command, would be in charge of things until she returned. 

"So you see, in exchange for supplies, the Novie are willing to share their defensive information with us," Relena concluded. "They have sent one of their representatives, Forwa, in exchange for Lady Une. Forwa?" 

The young alien girl stood shyly as Relena introduced her. "My people cannot thank you enough. Due to the generosity of planets such as yours, we can continue our mission to spread the word of the danger, and to seek a new home for ourselves. I only hope that your preparations will not need to be used, for the wrath of the Setche is great, and they know no mercy." 

Heero was impressed. The girl had only learned Japanese within the last few days, according to herself, but she spoke it as fluently as if she were born and raised in Tokyo. Even Relena's Japanese wasn't that good, and Duo spoke with a terrible Osaka accent, reflecting his Colony Two American origins. Heero glanced at Duo, next to him, and noticed that the other pilot had nearly dozed off. A quick elbow brought Duo back to consciousness, and he had the presence of mind to look sheepish. 

"I hope that our sharing of information, beginning today, with promote a long and prosperous alliance between us." Forwa suddenly glanced around nervously, and sat down, apparently realizing that she was finished but did not know how to properly indicate it. So, the hypnosis language sessions are not entirely perfect, Heero decided. She had most gestures down, but not all of them, as she hadn't known to bow, or even nod. 

"Thank you," Relena said with a gracious smile, and a nod to all the Preventers. "You are dismissed. Dorothy?" 

Dorothy Catalonia appeared from the depths of the large group of Preventers who were leaving the room, wearing an attractive navy pantsuit, and carrying an enormous bundle of papers. 

"Miss Relena, you've done it now. First you lost Lady Une, then you usurped Dr. O' Malley's authority, there are hundreds of reporters outside the shuttle port screaming that you're denying freedom of the press, your popularity in the election polls is jumping all over the place...." 

"We'll deal with all that tomorrow." Relena sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose unconsciously. "Tonight, I'm too drained. Schedule a press conference for eight in the morning. Forwa?" Relena queried, then spotted the alien girl looking more than a little bewildered as the room cleared out and no one escorted her anywhere. Forwa looked up gratefully at Relena when she heard her name called. 

"Forwa, you'll be staying in my own apartment, if that's all right. I would put you in a hotel, except I can't keep the paparazzi away from there as I can in my apartment here." 

"Whatever is necessary," Forwa said, with another one of her sunny smiles. The Novie had slightly more pointed teeth than humans, giving the disturbing impression that Forwa was a happy vampire. 

"Fine, then." Relena smiled back "Unless you want to come to our press conference, Dorothy here will be in charge of giving you a tour of the Colony." 

"Miss Relena?" Dorothy said, in faint surprise. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Forwa. Forwa narrowed her eyes and looked back. Sparks flew. Whereas Relena and Forwa had been instant kindred souls, Dorothy and Forwa were nigh on instant enemies. Something about each girl rubbed the other one exactly the wrong way, and they could tell on sight that they would _not_ get along well. 

Relena did not notice the daggers the two were shooting at each other. Oblivious, she chattered on as she led them out of the colony briefing room. 

"Come on, Duo," Heero said, waking up the sleeping pilot once again, but keeping his eyes trained on the disappearing figure of Relena. "We've got to get to my apartment." 

"Your apartment?" Duo said groggily. 

"We can't leave Colony One for a week, and it would hurt Relena's image around here if we stayed in the shuttle port quarters like were have been. She's made herself in charge, and we've got to follow suit. Unless you want to sleep on the street," Heero said, unsmiling. 

"Fine, fine, your apartment then. Jeesh, and I was having such nice fantasies about returning to Hilde . . . " 

"Keep a lid on them for another week. Come on." 

They were the last ones to leave the briefing room. Quatre had disappeared with Trowa and Dozé before the meeting even began, and apparently only Heero had noticed in the confusion that had ensued with Relena's sudden coup for control. 

* * * 

What have I done?

Relena kept asking herself that over and over again. She knew she had overstepped her authority, and had probably made a lot of enemies in the ministry of science at the same time, but she couldn't just let them take Forwa off to -- Relena shuddered -- examine her. 

They were in her apartment now, Dorothy setting Forwa up in one of the guest bedrooms. She kept a rather overlarge townhouse on Colony One, in the event that she ever needed to host anything, so having Forwa stay with her at least would not be a problem space-wise. 

She wanted . . . she wanted to talk to someone. No, she wanted to talk to Heero. Even if he only "hn"ed at her and told her to go away, she wanted to hear his voice and see his handsome, sad face. He kept an apartment on Colony One (she'd looked up his name in the phone book in a moment of weakness once.) She started to reach for the vidphone, but changed her mind. Heero was such a recluse that he probably wouldn't like an invasion of his privacy. She wasn't a little kid anymore; she couldn't just hop in her plane and chase him without thought or care. She had responsibilities, and dumping her frustration and fear on Heero wouldn't be fair to either of them. 

But she did want to talk to someone. She leaned across her desk, where she had been poring over drafts of the official press release, and bit her lip before flipping through the Rolodex. Hmmmm. Hilde . . . no, wait, Duo had said she was in the middle of her business school finals and was too stressed to even sleep. Interrupting her now wouldn't be nice. Sally? With Lady Une with the Novie, she was probably scrambling to get some semblance of organization on the Preventers. Catherine was impossible to get a hold of since she moved so much with the circus, and her cell phone was almost always turned off. Dorothy would only make her panic more. 

Her fingers paused above a set of names and a number. Zechs. Of course. He and Noin were on Mars, but it would be midday for them. Noin would love to hear about the journey to the ship. Relena smiled to herself -- Noin had told her exactly why she couldn't go along, despite her love for space and adventure. She hadn't told Zechs yet, but Relena knew her brother would be ecstatic once he heard. 

She dialed up their control office, through the Preventers as opposed to the Ministry of Science as she usually would, and tried not to think about how much the call was going to cost her. Mars was nearing its perihelion to Earth, which meant that the transmit time would be no more than ten seconds each way, but even so, contact to the Red Planet was never inexpensive, especially via semi-live vidphone. 

Answer, she whispered to the vidphone, which stubbornly stayed blank. Finally, someone picked up, and in a few moments she saw the image of Zechs, her brother, blossom across the screen. 

"Relena?" he said in surprise. He was still as dashing as ever, although in order to wear his helmet (as yet, humans could not cope with the harsh Martian atmosphere), he kept his hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. The ponytail coupled with his ragged bangs reminded her for a second of a blond version of Duo. 

Come to think of it, she had probably seen Duo more times than she had seen her own brother. She'd taken him for lost after that final battle with Heero, although Noin said she knew he was still alive somewhere. And then he'd shown up out of nowhere -- then disappeared again with Noin, only to show up as the head of the Ministry of Science's Mars Terraforming project. She'd hardly had any time with him at all. Some family, eh, she thought sadly. 

"Greetings, brother," she said formally in English, the Sanq Kingdom's official language. But she softened her stiff words with a smile. "You have probably already heard, but we've got some company here on Colony One." 

"I heard, although I'm not sure how much of it I believe. You've made some enemies in the Ministry of Science, and right now you're not too popular with anyone here on Mars." 

Now that surprised Relena. "But . . .why?" Relena winced. She had supported the Mars Project wholeheartedly. Were people so fickle? 

"We're the most susceptible to an attack here on Mars." He raised her hand to stop her protest. "I don't believe that their intentions are hostile -- despite what all those low-grade B movies seem to say, I believe that anyone with the capabilities of interstellar flight has the nobility to state their intentions of invasion right off the back and not sneak around. But the people want something to fear . . . just as they always want a reason to fight. Prove them wrong, Relena. If anyone can, it's you." 

Relena sighed in relief. It was precisely what she'd needed to hear. "So I did the right thing?" 

"I'm not entirely sure. I think you chose the best option you could. In that situation, there was no right or wrong." 

"Is anyone on Mars giving you or Noin a hard time?" 

"Oh, no. We have their implicit trust. You don't." 

Naturally. Time to change the subject. "How is Noin doing? Is she eating well?" 

Zechs looked puzzled. . Relena decided that Noin still hadn't told him. "Noin is fine. She's out doing field work at the moment. She should be back in a half hour or so, if you wanted to talk to her." 

"No, that's fine." So much for telling Noin about the Novie, but this call was going to be as expensive enough as it was. "I'm glad to hear you're doing well. Are you almost ready for Stage Two?" 

"The first asteroid is accelerating nicely, although it still won't have the speed it needs for several months. Before then, we're going to bombard it with several other magnetized asteroids. We'll have Stage Two done within the year." 

"That far away?" she murmured, sadly. The Terraforming Project had been her pet since she'd been elected to office. 

"Mars can't be terraformed in a day," Zechs said, with a twinkle in his eye. "Don't worry. We'll begin to see the fruits of our labor within our lifetime, and our grandchildren will see Mars green." 

Relena hid a smile. Zechs was a bit closer to grandchildren already than he thought. 

"I've got to go check on a team that is setting up the new dome. I hate to run out on you, but --" 

"Please, Milliardo, you've helped me more than you could know. I'll keep in touch," she said, touching the view screen. 

"Do that, Relena. Bye." His face vanished, leaving Relena alone again with her thoughts. And as usual, those thoughts strayed to Heero. She still wanted to talk to him. There was a Heero shaped vacuum in her mind, and talking to Zechs hadn't relieved it at all. She absently turned on the radio, and listened to the song that was playing on the oldies station for a few moments. 

_There's a hole in my heart that can only be filled by you  
And this hole in my heart can't be filled with the things I do  
Hole-hearted, hole-hearted..._

Ouch. That hit a little too close to home. 

She shut the radio off and went to help Dorothy. 

* * * 

"You can sleep on the couch. It's a futon." Heero tossed a few linens to Duo, who was staring wide-eyed around Heero's one bedroom apartment on Colony One. 

"What... what is all this stuff?" He peered closely at the bizarre assortment of detritus that covered Heero's walls. "4-H Jamboree AC 197 -- Cooperative Extension Services, University of Colony One -- Heero? You're a 4-H leader? The things you never tell me, and I'm your best friend!" Duo looked offended. 

Heero shot him a Death Glare. "It's the least I can do. I can give the kids of Colony One a chance I never had. And you must never have read my letters, because I mentioned it several times. 

Duo looked even more offended. "I read them! You just say things out of nowhere. 'They don't pay me enough, the press is hounding Relena again, and I'll be gone this weekend for a meeting' -- and you assume I know what kind of meeting it is. Either your train of though has the most twisted tracks in the whole solar system, or you enjoy making my brains turn to spaghetti when you write." 

Heero made his noncommittal noise, and threw a pillow squarely at Duo, who caught it automatically. "I think you got Hilde to read them and she conveniently skipped over those parts because she knew you'd laugh." 

"I'm not laughing now, am I?" Duo replied, looking at the rows of certificates, child's art, and memories Heero had tacked up on the wall. "I think it's a very kind gesture. I sure hope this kids are having a nicer childhood than I did." Duo flopped onto Heero's couch, and settled down. "What time are we getting up, Heero?" 

"Six. Relena's called a press conference at eight, and we've got to be there." Heero narrowed his eyes. "Don't sleep in like you did all the time at school." 

"Aww, gimme a break, Heero, I wasn't late all the time . . ." 

Heero snorted and leaned against the doorjamb. "There's a phone right over there if you want to call Hilde. It's paid for by my airline company so feel free to jabber with her all you want." 

Duo jumped up again, and nearly sprinted to the phone. "Thanks! I need to find out how her finals went." He quickly dialed the vid phone, and Heero went to his bedroom, suddenly feeling very jealous of Duo and Hilde for some reason. 

* * * 

Quatre and Trowa had snuck away in the confusion, all right, grateful that Relena's little performance had granted them a chance to do so. They left the Ministry of Science section on Colony One unimpeded, and headed towards the Winner house on a nearby Side. 

The Winners, like many important families on Earth before them, had a tendency to leave their names on streets and buildings everywhere they went -- you could rest assured that no matter where you went in Colony Four, for example, there would be a Winner Street someplace, named after an old Winner House. The houses were rarely occupied by Winners, however. As the family had branched out, they had built and then abandoned house after house on Side after Side. The Winner House on Colony One was one of the few ones the Winners actually used anymore. Quatre's father had used it as his business base on Colony One, and Quatre had seen no reason for him to stop doing so. 

It was tall and grand and would make any historical preservationists sell his or her soul. The famous designer J.D. Founders had built it in the Early Colonial period, and had been one of the first houses on Colony One to be something other than utilitarian. Neo-classical in design, the huge two story columns loomed from the highly cultivated garden out front, framing the dramatic entrance. The stern facade was broken only by a few whimsical pieces of white wicker furniture on the porch. Quatre's mother had supposedly been fond of. Quatre kept them there in her memory, a strange detached fragment of the maternal love he'd never known reaching out from the nether world. They comforted him. 

And yet, it was small. The echoing foyer and giant proportions of the front belied the interior, which actually had only four bedrooms and a few thousand square feet. In the early Colony Days, however, space had been a premium, and the full acre lot it was on had been considered a frivolous expense. The Winner fortune's roots were deep, but they had finally broken the surface in the Colony One Winner House. 

Trowa was strangely silent as Quatre tucked Dozé away for the evening. He answered in monosyllables, although he helped Quatre out with Dozé's bath and didn't complain as he ended up nearly as wet as the

"Good thing this is permanent press," Trowa said as he wrung out his shirt over the sink once Dozé was in bed. It was the most he'd said all evening. 

"Well, I do have an iron if you need it," Quatre replied helpfully. "Since there's no staff at this house, I've learned to do my own laundry." Quatre smiled, and tried not to think about the play of light on the muscles of Trowa's damp chest. Or the way they tapered into Trowa's lean hips. 

Trowa flapped the damp shirt, his face as deadpan as always as he studied all the new wrinkles. "I think I need a dryer more. I thought seven year olds had more self control than that. Your nephew reminds me of one of the circus seals. " His face flickered in pain for an instant, and Quatre, who was finely tuned to Radio Trowa, caught it for the moment it was there. Trowa started to leave the bathroom, but Quatre's voice stopped him, and he froze halfway out the door, his back turned to the blond Arabian. 

"Trowa, whatever is wrong, you can tell me," he said, his tenor tender but firm. 

Trowa half turned to face him, and this time there was unmistakable grief on his face. "I don't want to burden you," he said, the shirt drooping at his side. 

"Burden? How could sharing with me be a burden to me?" Quatre's empathy radiated throughout the small bathroom. He stepped forward, and rested his small hand on Trowa's bare arm. "Please, Trowa. Sometimes the only way to understand the pain of the mind is to explain it all to someone else. I'll always be a willing ear for you." 

Trowa caught Quatre fast in a bone crunching hug, surprising Quatre for a second. The damp shirt burned against his back for a second, then settled into coolness. Quatre smiled briefly to himself. So Trowa _did_ feel it as well. He sighed a tiny sigh of contentment, enveloped in the strong warmth of Trowa's arms, offering all the comfort of his soul. 

* * * 

"Catherine is missing," Trowa said later, over coffee in the small sitting room on the first floor. "Well, not missing. I know where she is. But don't think she does." Behind them, the dryer hummed 

Quatre stirred his own coffee and touched Trowa's foot with his own. "Care to explain that?" 

Trowa stared off in the distance, remembering the stranger who'd inhabited Catherine's body on the podium the day before. "It's as if she's someone else. A evil twin. Like Lady Une before the death of Treize. It was a different Cathy." 

"She lost her memories, maybe?" 

"No, even if she didn't remember who she was, she'd still be herself." Trowa thought about that for a few seconds. "Losing your memories is a lot different. When I had amnesia, I don't think my personality changed." 

"Nope, you were still the strong, silent, handsome type," Quatre said with a grin. Trowa raised an eyebrow at that remark. 

"But it's as if Cathy has completely changed. She seemed so cold and controlling. And yet..." he recalled that one time she'd punched him for thinking about suicide. "And yet, that part of her has always been there, now that I think about it. It may be a different aspect of her personality taking control. Very much like Lady Une." 

"But I heard that Lady Une's two selves formed as a result of her loyalty to Treize. What could pull Catherine into two?" 

"Fear of war. She hates war more than anything. That is why she didn't like you at first. You wanted to take me back to the war." 

"She didn't like me?" Quatre looked hurt, but his voice held a teasing note. "I thought everyone liked me." 

"Except OZ, and Romefeller, and most of the colonies. . ." 

"But they didn't like me on _principle_. I try to be a likable person, on a face to face basis." 

"You're a likable person, Quatre. No one should ever doubt that." Trowa's mouth turned up into the faintest smile. The smile quickly faded, and the glitter in Trowa's eyes was replaced by a deeper shine. "You're kind, compassionate, and loyal, and you see the best in everyone. Even me." 

"There's a lot of the best in you, Trowa," Quatre protested. "You're thoughtful and selfless, and talented to boot." Not to mention downright sexy without a shirt, Quatre added to himself, and nearly blushed with the thought. 

Trowa sighed and leaned back in his chair, and sipped his coffee, and changed the subject before Quatre started enumerating other qualities he knew he didn't possess. "I wish I knew another way to reach her other than joining the movement. One more person in the Keep Earth Pure is one more person who is supporting hatred and violence, even if they don't believe in it. But I tried meeting her one on one, and she's guarded as heavily as Relena. Joining the movement is the only way I can get to her." 

"You're very good at going undercover, at least. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself." 

"I have to rescue her, Quatre. She's . . . family. Even if we weren't related, she'd still be my sister." 

"I understand." Quatre reached across the table, and took Trowa's hand. He squeezed it gently, and met Trowa's eyes, which burned with gratefulness and trust. "I know she'll recognize you once you meet her." He made no move to let go of Trowa's hand, and decided to press his luck. "But you can't leave until tomorrow." 

"I can't?" 

Quatre nodded, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "You can't. It's past eight o' clock now. All the shuttles have stopped for the day." 

Trowa said nothing, but his eyes glittered as Quatre continued amiably, and he twined his fingers through Quatre's, gently. 

"So you'll just have to stay tonight. I'm stuck on the Colony for a week, so you can at least keep me company for one night, right?" Quatre tilted his head to one side, expectantly. 

There was a moment of electric silence. 

"Yes," Trowa said finally, and leaned forward across the table, and kissed Quatre full on the mouth. 

* * * 

The lights were out on the Winner House of Colony One. And it was quiet, and peaceful in the yard. The architects of the Early Colonial period had worked with good materials, so that all the buildings in those early Sides were efficient and nearly soundproof. 

Otherwise, the yard might have been a bit noisier that evening from the activities in a certain bedroom inside. 

* * * 

It was late at night in the Preventer's Headquarters on Colony One. Sally had been struggling to keep control of the chaos caused by Lady Une's absence, and fortunately, the Preventers seemed to be coping better than anyone else. They were all a well trained lot. She closed the door to Lady Une's office with a sigh, and walked down the hall to the office that she and Wu-Fei used when they were in space. She'd hopefully be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the press conference the next day. 

The lights were on in the office, which meant that Wu-Fei was still there. Sally crept inside quietly, yet she did not see her partner anywhere. Where was he? There was her desk, comfortably cluttered with memories, so dissimilar to his starkly neat one right next to it. There was a single piece of paper aligned squarely with the edges. Curious, Sally sat down and read it, expecting it to be the early stages of the plans for the security of the press conference the next morning, which Wu-Fei had insisted on doing himself. Instead, it was a brief outline of the events of the past few days -- the Novie, their story, and the human's reactions. Some points had been outlined. Others had neat lines drawn between them, connecting them. It was a jumble of thoughts that her partner had tried to organize on paper, and had apparently failed. 

She studied it for a long time, until Wu-Fei came in, carrying a cup of coffee. 

"Woman, why are you sitting in my chair?" He sounded faintly cross, as usual. 

"Because it was empty. I was wondering where you had gone. Planning on it being a late night?" she asked, eyeing his cup of coffee. 

"Yes. And if you knew how to make a decent cup of coffee, I wouldn't have to leave the office at all." 

Sally smiled to herself. Their Coffee War had gained fame throughout the Preventer's Organization. She liked her coffee dark and rich. Wu-Fei liked his light and thin. She added saccharine and cream. Wu-Fei liked his plain. Unfortunately, they had only one coffee pot in their office, and it belonged to Sally. She planned to get him his own as a gift one of these days, but in the meantime, he had commandeered the coffee pot in the break room. 

She gracefully rose from his chair and retreated to her own. Wu-Fei set his coffee on his desk, sat down with a great deal of fanfare and indignant silence, and then carefully added another thought to the sheet of paper. 

Sally just stared at him, smiling, drinking in his presence. She loved Wu-Fei dearly, despite his general sulkiness. Wu-Fei felt her stare. 

"What, woman?" 

"Aren't you going to tell me what you're doing? Or am I going to have to ask you?" 

Wu-Fei sighed and let his pen bounce on his desk. Damned woman. Never minded her own business. 

"Something about this situation with the Setche and the Novie just doesn't add up. It's all been too easy. They should be in a panic, fleeing for their lives, yet everything has been so calm and diplomatic so far. I don't like it." 

Sally crossed her legs as seductively as she could in her Preventer's uniform. "I haven't seen anything suspicious. I think they're pacifists. Notice they sent Forwa to share their defensive technology, not their weapons. Never once did Zwit even mention weapons." 

"Exactly. If they Setche are as horrible as he says they are, then why doesn't he want us to destroy them?" 

"Hmm." Sally rested her chin on her hands. She'd been pleased that Zwit had offered only to augment their defenses, and Lady Une had been as well. The last thing they needed was a brand new weapon on their hands, with the Barton War only over less than six months ago. But now that Wu-Fei mentioned it, something about a defense-only war did sound a little strange. 

Wu-Fei added another line to his list, and muttered under his breath. "Unless... Zwit doesn't want us to win against the Setche... that would mean he wants us to lose..." Wu-Fei stared at his paper, several emotions flickering across his face in rapid succession as if his mind couldn't decide which level of anger to settle upon. 

He underlined something several times, and his mind decided that pure rage would work nicely.

"Of course!" He stood up, and slammed his pencil onto the table. 

"What? What is it?" 

"The Novie are in league with the Setche!" 

Sally's eyes widened. "Wu-Fei, that's a serious accusation." 

But he was already shrugging on his Preventer's jacket. He punched his desk in frustration. "We have to stop that press conference." Sally started to object again, but he grabbed her hand, leaving her no room to argue. "Come _on_, woman!" 

The two fled their office sanctuary, and Wu-Fei's cup of coffee lay forgotten next to the sheet of paper. 

* * * 

Trowa slipped out of Quatre's bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, intent on joining the League as soon as possible. He regretted leaving his lover so soon -- he'd have liked to see Quatre wake up in the morning, the last echoes of sleep blinking in his eyes, but he knew that Quatre would understand why he had to go. 

He kissed Quatre softly and left the Winner House for the building that the League was using there on Colony One. Catherine had come there yesterday. He had a feeling she intended to make a move the next morning at the press conference. 

* * * 

Now, Forwa thought, curled up on the soft bed in Relena's guest room, this is what I call living. 

Relena's townhouse was large and elegant, but modest by most human standards. Not so to Forwa. The Novie ship, the _Silent Predator_ (her father hated the name; it sounded so barbaric, but it cold not be helped), had not been without its luxuries, but those luxuries did not include feather mattresses. With eiderdowns of satin and pillows stuffed to bursting with down feathers. Forwa felt as if she were floating on a cloud. 

She didn't quite understand what a press conference was -- her hypnosis language told her that it was a gathering of the press for a public statement, but she wasn't sure why Miss Relena needed to call one. It seemed rather silly. 

Forwa sighed deeply, and tried to will herself to sleep, but the excitement of the day kept coursing through her veins. This was the first time her father had ever trusted her with a diplomatic mission on her own. Usually, he sent Cinch, who was such a bumbling silly that everyone took to him instantly. Well, he was only a bumbling silly around her, anyway. Forwa knew it was all an act to amuse her. She appreciated it. There had been little enough in her life so far that was amusing. 

The Setche had destroyed their home world of Noveno when she was only one. Her mother had died in the attack, leaving her with only her father for company, and he had had most of his hands full running the ship. In many ways, Cinch, who was only six years her senior, had acted as both a big brother and a surrogate mother to her. Cinch was kind in that way best friends of older brothers tended to be kind. Forwa admitted that she had something of a crush on him, but he'd never see her as anything more than a kid sister. 

The lights of Colony One blinked on and off outside her window. How was Cinch doing now? Was he worried about her? The Novie ship would dock on Colony One in two days, so he shouldn't be too worried, but she did wonder about him. And papa would probably be worried, but that's because she was his only daughter and heir. Parents tended to worry excessively. 

She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, and tried to pull the leg of her borrowed pajamas down with one large clawed toe. The material was nice and soft, but there was a reason that the Novie preferred less snaggable fabrics. Her own diplomatic robes were so tightly woven that they were water resistant, and she'd never have to worry about causing a run. 

Finally, the thoughts of comparative fabrics tired Forwa, and she fell asleep, clutching her satin eiderdown and for some reason thinking of that strange tall boy whose name was so similar to her own. 

* * *

[Ending song: [][3]The Promise by Michael Nyman ] 

Episode Four:The Anti-Alien League makes an unexpected appearance at Relena's press conference. Zechs contacts Quatre with disturbing news -- the plans for the custom Gundams have apparently gone missing, and no one knows how. Lady Une begins to form her own suspicions about the Novie and the Setche -- especially the enigmatic Zwit. And a shocking tragedy brings two people together in the most unlikely place. Watch for it! 

Want the actual lyrics for [][4]Airmail from the Moon? They are at the [][5]Anime Lyrics Library, courtesy of kaijyuu M of the [][6]Two Mix Electronic Library. The English lyrics used at the beginning of the episode were done by me, Cat Who. They are not an exact translation, but they are pretty close. 

I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters in here so far. If I did, I would be rich, but alas, I'm obviously poor. Oh well. Gundam Wing is actually owned by Bandai Visual, Sotsu Agency, and TV Tokyo. Airmail from the Moon is ©1999 to Two Mix, and The Promise is ©1997 to Michael Nyman. Neither was used with permission. 

   [1]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/index.html
   [2]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/airmail.mp3
   [3]: promise.mp3
   [4]: http://www.animelyrics.com/jpop/twomix/airmail.htm
   [5]: http://www.animelyrics.com/
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/kaijyuu_m/two-mix/index.html



	4. Episode Four: Setups

Episode Four

**Watermark**

[Back to the Index][1]

**Episode Four**: Setups

[**[Song: Airmail from the Moon]**][2]

_Warmly embraced by the planet far away  
I want to thank you for giving my heart a place to stay  
Gotta go sailing, go soaring, so you'll have to let me be  
I'll never give up the moment, 'cause you believe in me.__  
-- "Airmail from the Moon"_

Lady Une stood on the bridge of the Novie starship, wearing the silvery garments of the Novie. Behind her, Zwit pointed out the various buttons on the consoles of the bridge. Around them, a dozen Novie worked to keep the ship in good running order, their black claws skittering softly across the gel-filled keys. 

"There are nearly two thousand of us on this ship, three hundred crew, and about seventeen hundred civilians. We were one of three ships that escape the invasion. The other two are smaller, but faster. We parted on our separate ways to seek out new civilizations, to warn them of the Setche. We are also seeking a new home of our own."

Outside the main screen of the bridge, the supply Side that they had docked to rotated gently, bringing the soft blue planet Earth into view. When placed into the perspective of a galactic invasion, our problems don't seem so extraordinary, Lady Une mused. 

"Perhaps you may stay on Earth," she said quietly, glancing at him.

"Thank you for the offer," Zwit said, his voice rather sad, "but we are looking for a world of our own, able to sustain life, but unhabited. It seems you all have enough troubles without us bringing our own to you."

"We really are one human family here, although we have a lot of trouble seeing it through our own selfish pride and greed. It seems that no matter what we do, we cannot escape war."

"War is a watermark on the pages of history of all peoples," Zwit said. He reminded Lady Une very much of Mariemeia then . . . no, he reminded her of Treize. Her heart squeezed faintly, but she had buried her love for the now lost warrior. He had done what he needed to do, what he believed was right, and that was a conviction that she would hold till her grave. 

Zwit took her elbow and gently directed her towards the corridor, which was dim, as usual. Zwit had explained that they kept the light ambient unless a brighter light was needed, to conserve energy.

"Tell me," Zwit asked conversationally, "you say your world is built on war, yet you have not asked for any knowledge of weapons. Why is that?"

"We have tried to eliminate offensive weapons as part of Miss Relena's ideal of pacifism. Without weapons, there can be no more wars, so we have tried to destroy all that we can. We don't know if that would work, as even in our own history it has failed more often than not, but it was worth a try."

"Pacifism is indeed a noble ideal."

"It seems to be the only way to achieve peace. But can we hold onto it? That is what we've yet to find out."

They reached a small room that Zwit called his "office," although it was the emptiest office that Lady Une had ever seen. It held only two chairs and a small vidscreen. No desk, no phone, no walls of file cabinets. Zwit had explained that an empty office allowed him to think without distractions. Lady Une had decided to strip her own office down at the Preventers headquarters in such a fashion.

"The press conference ought to be beginning soon. It's certainly going to be interesting," Zwit said, and turned on the vidscreen. They sat down to watch the broadcast from the capital Side of Colony One.

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't let me in?" Wu-fei said to the guard angrily.

"Miss Relena's orders. She's not to be interrupted by anyone. Sir." The Preventer looked apologetic, but he stood his ground. Not even his superior officers could countermand an order from Queen Relena.

"But this is important! Sally!" Wu-fei said, turning his desperate face to his partner, "can't you do anything?"

Sally shrugged. "Relena is afraid that a lot of groups are going to try to stop the conference. It's natural that she keep herself isolated until she's ready."

"But we actually have a good reason!"

"We can talk to her after the conference, Wu-Fei. Now that I think about it, that is probably the best thing to do anyway. If we managed to call it off now, we'd have a mob on our hands." Sally glanced toward the main auditorium of the Colony One pressroom, which was already overflowing with reporters, dignitaries from all countries, and citizens who had come to watch the show.

Wu-fei flashed his dark, angry eyes at her, but she knew he had conceded her the point.

"All right. We'll wait till after. But we need_ triple _security around that girl." Wu-Fei stomped off to find some more Preventer security officers. Sally watched him go with a wry grin. Their methods were different, but their goals were the same.

"Tell Miss Relena that she needs to be careful during the conference. We have some information we need to share with her immediately afterward."

"Yes ma'am!" The Preventer saluted Sally as she went to find a seat, the wry expression still on her face.

* * *

"I'll be doing all the talking, Forwa. You just need to sit and . . ."

"And look like myself?" Forwa grinned. "I can do that. These press conference things are sure a big deal, no?"

"I'll be giving a formal statement to the world on the situation as I see it. What I say now determines how we proceed. It's not an easy situation."

"I'll say. Are you nervous?"

Relena paused thoughtfully. "Yes," she said calmly.

* * *

Heero and Duo, both back in their old Preventers uniforms, stared down at the auditorium from a balcony.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Heero said, nodding to a group that had just entered the already full auditorium. The group was slowly working its way toward the front of the crowd.

"Hmmm, yeah, they do look kinda sneaky, eh?"

"Very."

"Hey, look, there's Relena."

Heero jumped a little, then looked around casually. "I don't see her."

"Made ya look," Duo said with a smirk, earning him a murderous look from Heero. "Ah, there she is for real." 

Relena emerged from the wings of the small press stage, followed by Forwa, Dr. O' Malley, and Quatre. The auditorium burst into applause, which quickly died down as Relena approached the podium, her gait businesslike, her shoulders square and purposeful. She wore a dark, bold blue powersuit, but her hair was up. Heero knew that this meant she was in "queen" mode. She was serious, all right.

"Citizens of Colony One, of all the colonies, of Earth," she said carefully, her clear voice carrying across the vast space easily. "The events of the past few days have been a fulfillment of one of humanity's oldest dreams. We have finally come into contact with beings from outside our own world. The Novie have come from far across the vast reaches of space to share with us a message of peace."

"She hasn't lost her touch," Duo said. "Yep, that's Relena all right. Only she could convince a room full of old geezers that they were acting like spoiled children, fighting with each other."

"But they have also come to bring us a message of warning. I will not lie to you. The Novie had told us of a potential attack from a hostile race of beings known as the Setche. The Novie have also graciously offered to share their knowledge of defensive systems in exchange for supplies so that they may continue their journey to warn other worlds of this danger. I have accepted their offer."

Suddenly, from the group of black-clad bystanders that had worked their way from the center of the room, a pyramid formed. At the top was a figure that was familiar to Duo. 

"Heero, that's Catherine!"

Heero had already whipped out a walkie talkie. "Sally, we've got trouble."

"I'm on it."

"You mean you've accepted their offer of invasion," Purity sneered. She was wearing a black powersuit, much like Relena's, with her black sunglasses and a black trenchcoat. The Keep Earth Pure League below her supported her steadily, so that she seemed to have risen from the depths of the colony itself. "How can we trust these aliens? How do we know they're not the ones planning the attack themselves?"

"That was my question," Wu-Fei said angrily, as he and a team of Preventers rushed through the tittering crowd.

"We have only their word," Relena said, her voice icy and controlled. "But for me, that word is enough. My judgement in the past has been sound. There is no logical reason to distrust them."

"And there is no logical reason to believe them, either. Citizens of the Earth, of the Colonies, I ask you for your support. We have enough trouble on our world as it is. Why should we invite more! I call for the immediate removal of the alien presence from Colony One!"

"Who is that?" Zwit asked, slightly amused.

"She's the sister of one of my former Preventers," Lady Une said, her face mildly surprised. "But I thought she was a pacifist."

"Our world is peaceful. To turn away our visitors would be an act that is against our policies and ideals." Relena had leaned into the podium. She was angrier than she had been in a long time, but for her, anger led to a deadlier calm. Her mind was operating at its quickest now.

"Our policies and ideals only concern humans! I--," Purity cried, but she was cut off as the Preventers reached the human pyramid and began spraying laughing gas. The pyramid toppled, but a ribbon of KEP workers had been left to the exit, and they crowd-surfed their leader outside faster than the Preventers could keep up.

And, as Heero observed, the last one at the door was Trowa. He stared at his former ally, his eyes narrowing, and Trowa happened to look up at Heero's balcony. Their eyes locked for a second, Heero's cold ones on Trowa's expressionless ones. Trowa raised a single eyebrow, and then he and Catherine-Purity were gone.

"Ah man, this is gonna be one helluva mess, to clean up," Duo shouted over the chaos. Relena had given up and fled offstage, surrounding herself and Forwa with Preventers three deep.

"It has been a spectacular disaster on one level, but I think Relena's still ahead."

"Eh?" Duo blinked as they headed down the stairs.

"Relena didn't cause the havoc, Purity did. The people will still trust Relena." Heero shrugged.

"If you say so . . . oy! Sally! Reporting for duty, ma'am!"

* * *

"What do you mean, Relena's gone?" Wu-Fei screamed in frustration. After they'd cleared out the crows from the auditorium, Wu-Fei had gone directly back to Relena's temporary dressing room, only to find it empty.

Sally shrugged. "After this mess, I don't see why she would stay. You got your wish, Wu-Fei. The press conference was stopped."

Wu-Fei opened his mouth to say something in argument, but nothing came out. Sally had a point. He closed his mouth, feeling quite foolish for a moment. Then he stomped away, his face turning red in mingled horror, anger, and embarassment.

"He just hates it when I'm right," Sally said to no one in particular, and followed him down the hallway.

* * *

_One Week Later_

* * *

"Sorry I have to cut the meeting short today, guys," Heero said to the group of seven to ten year olds that were the members of the Colony One 4-H club. The job was his hobby, although it was difficult to schedule around his primary work as a shuttle pilot (and his secondary work of watching Relena like a hawk.) He considered this is atonement for his sins during the war. Every smile on a child's face, every thought that had nothing to do with war or fear, made Heero's soul heal just that little bit more. 

"Heero, we understand," Melinda, one of the oldest said. "You gotta do all that grownup stuff. It's not fair, but I guess someone has to do it."

"Yeah, without people like Heero, we'd be stuck on the colony all the time!" Justin (age five) piped in.

"And when have _you _left the colony, ever?"

"I haven't yet but I will, just watch. I'll leave anytime I want to someday."

Heero smiled faintly to himself, as Justin and Melinda got into a shouting match. They were allowed to argue all they wanted, so long as they remembered to back their fights up with facts, and never to get physical.

"So, what're we doing today, Heero?" Dozé Winner asked.

"Just some project work, as usual. If we had more time, we could work on the group project for the Gathering next month, but since I've got to leave early we need to spend that time on the individual presentations."

In the hundreds of years since its establishment on Earth, the 4-H had not changed in its message of peace through community and individual work. Unlike its gender specific counterparts, the 4-H promoted work throughout the whole community. Heero's club's project was on historical architecture on Colony One, and what needed to be done to preserve it. The kids were having a blast, especially since it meant they got to tour a lot of nifty old houses.

"I can too be a soldier! You wouldn't understand cuz you're not a guy."

"The war's over. We don't got no soldiers anymore."

"But Heero's a soldier, aren't you, Heero?" Justin said pleadingly, turning to Heero. 

"Melinda's right. There aren't any soldiers anymore."

Justin frowned. "Awww man. I wanna be a ninja then."

Heero coughed faintly into his hand and herded the dissenters over to the main group of children, who were already at working planning the mock restoration of their favorite house.

* * *

In the colony one shuttleport, a technician made a few adjustments to a shuttle wing, whistling as he did so. His eyes flashed briefly as he admired his work. He left quietly.

* * *

"You're now looking at a girl with a degree," Hilde said proudly to Duo. They were visiting Relena on Colony One, since Relena would be going away and wanted a few people she trusted to keep an eye on Forwa. It was finally dawning on her that Dorothy and Forwa weren't exactly the chummiest people around, and she figured that Hilde would do much better with Forwa.

"I'm so glad, Hildey-babe," Duo said, giving her a bear hug from where he sat on Relena's living room couch. Across the room, Forwa watched the loving couple in wistful amusement. She understood that Relena was a very busy person, and she didn't really mind being left in space while she did some work on the planet. Relena had promised her a tour of the world once things had settled down a bit, but right now she considered it too dangerous.

"Say, Forwa, has Relena taken you shopping yet?" Hilde asked suddenly, shoving Duo away when he started nibbling on her neck. 

"Shopping? As in, purchasing things? No," Forwa said. She had brought a few changes of clothes with her, but even so, she'd ended up borrowing a few outfits from Relena. The problem was that the human was a bit larger than her, and so the clothers were baggy, and all the wrong colors. Forwa preferred lemon yellows, or grays, and all Relena had were pinks and blues.

"Well, then, that's what we'll do as soon as Relena leaves," Hilde said with a smile. "She gave me a credit card to cover you for the next week, and why not take advantage of it?" Hilde grinned.

"A credit card?" Forwa had to think about that. Just because she had a full command of Japanese (and now English, thanks to a few quick sessions via computer), she didn't understand a lot of idioms in either language. The phrase "credit card" was the same in both languages, and meant the same thing in both languages, but the words themselves were English, and she had to stop and decipher it.

"Don't worry, Relena's rich. She's the only one of us who never had to worry about money, the lucky girl," Hilde said. "Of course, now that I have my associate's degree, I can go onto obtain my bachelor's, and I'll be able to run the scrapyard much more efficiently. Duo and I won't have to worry about it for much long, either" Hilde beamed proudly again. 

"Isn't she great?" Duo said again, grinning wildly at Hilde. Forwa sighed. Humans were so _open_ in their affection . . .

* * *

Heero ran a pre-flight system check. Since nothing terribly exciting had happened on the Novie ship (besides the fact that he and Duo had apparently taken an eight-hour nap), he had gone back to piloting Earth to Colony shuttles now that his quarantine was over. 

He glanced outside, where Relena was saying goodbye to a party of well wishers, including Duo, Hilde, and that alien girl. He was worried. The Keep Earth Pure group hadn't made any moves since their stunt at Relena's press conference the week before, and that did not bode well for the future.

He caught himself admiring Relena's trim, lithe form, today clad in a pale lavender powersuit with a miniskirt instead of her usual pants. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, with the soft wings of bangs framing her face. Back to normal working mode, he thought. He actually liked her hair any way she wore it, when he thought about it . . .

Shaking his head to clear the unwelcome thoughts, he looked back toward his work. Relena was a weakness. His only weakness. Something in the back of his head was nagging for attention, but he ignored it, and instead went back to checking readouts on the console while he waited for the captain to arrive.

* * *

"Cheers, Willow," Wesley Twentyman said to his partner in crime from their temporary office on Colony One, proffering his glass of champagne. "Our work is almost complete. When Relena Peacecraft goes back to Earth today, we can take take over this Side, and from there, the whole Colony."

"Aren't you thinking a little ahead?" Willow countered, ignoring his offer of a toast. She didn't drink alcohol. Her glass was filled with sensible V-8 juice. "It won't be that easy. As long as Peacecraft is a major figure, our Purity doesn't stand a chance of leading a successful revolt."

"Don't worry. After today, Peacecraft will cease to be a major factor at all."

"You're not planning on killing her, are you?"

Twentyman choked. "No, of course not! But our benefactor said that he's going to take care of her. Whether it involves killing her or not, our hands will be clean. We're not murderers, dear Willow. We're just anarchists. Creative anarchists, not destructive ones."

Willow twirled one of her dark curls around one perfectly manicured finger. "Something isn't right. Why would our boss "take care" of Peacecraft? And how can he do it without harming her?"

"I never said that he wasn't going to harm her. But our hands will be clean."

Willow stared at her partner, who smugly downed his glass of champagne. He really is a bastard, she thought. I should never have gotten involved with this . . . I hate this stupid Goldberg Project (they had changed the name again, deciding to attribute the plan to the original author.) And yet, she'd always been strangely attracted to the slimy man. He had charisma. And while his personal habits were always untidy, he kept himself in perfect physical condition, and his grooming was as impeccable as their own. Willow sighed. They weren't quite opposites, but instead more like yin and yang, with as much in common with each other as they had in difference.

A knock sounded on the door, and one of the new recruits, someone by the name of Trowa, came in bearing another one of those bio-safe boxes that were coming with increasing frequency. The boss paid well, in his own fashion.

"I'll just leave this here," the young man said, and then left, but not before giving the coldest glare that Willow had ever seen to the indolent Twentyman, who missed it entirely. Willow's eyes narrowed as she watched him leave. Then she shook her head. She'd been working with him for the past week, and he was really one of the best recruits so far. She had probably just imagined it.

* * *

Relena hugged Forwa, then Hilde, who as actually one of her closest female friends. She was glad that the girl had finally obtained her first degree, an amazing feat considering how war-torn outer space had been in the past few years. Most of the small schools had shut down, but Hilde had telecommuted to the University of Colony One, and managed to get her associate's degree in business within a single year.

"Take care," she said, and boarded the shuttle, unaware of who was piloting it.

* * *

The captain came in, and Heero gave him a quick rundown of the pre-flight status. All systems were normal.

"We're flying Relena Darlian again, in case you didn't know. I'm surprised she's going to Earth so soon, what with this alien invasion and all."

"It's not an invasion," Heero said sharply, before he realized that the captain was joking. The captain chuckled, and Heero had the presence of mind to feel chagrined.

"She has a lot on her plate," Heero continued, a bit more calmly, turning on the cabin vidscreen. 

"You do know her, don't you?" the captain said. Heero nodded slightly, confirming the captain's suspicions. "You worked with her during the war, right?"

Heero grimaced. He had never spoke of his past to the captain, and until now, the captain had never pried. "I wouldn't call it 'working.' Half the time I was trying to assassinate her."

"Life and death are connected in a very strange way. The fact that she's still alive means that you really didn't want her dead, wouldn't you say, lad? I can see the way you look at her." The captain was in high spirits, and he did so love ribbing his copilot.

Heero gave him a half-hearted Death Glare and went back to his work.

* * *

"Be well," Forwa called, and Relena waved goodbye to her.

As the shuttle door closed, Hilde grabbed Forwa's elbow. "Come on, I know just the boutique to go to. And you too, Duo," Hilde said sharply, as her significant other had made a move to go the other way.

"Awww, Hildey-babe, shopping is girl's stuff . . ."

The two females dragged the protesting Duo towards the groundcar that Relena had offered them.

* * *

On the Novie ship, Lady Une and Zwit were having lunch with a young man by the name of Cinch, who was one of Zwit's favorite assistants, and one of the crew closest to Forwa.

"Since Relena's gone for a while, I think it would be best to send you to take care of Forwa on the human colony," Zwit said casually. Cinch did not react, but instead continued eating. Lady Une was impressed at his control.

"Whatever you feel is necessary, sir," Cinch said, taking a quiet sip of the excellent wine that Zwit had chosen from his own personal storage. 

"I knew you'd see it that way. You leave in two hours."

This time Cinch did react. He nearly choked on his wine. In that instant he looked painfully young. "Sir?"

Zwit smiled charmingly. Lady Une smothered a giggle. Zwit knew how to command all right, and sometimes that meant being a little bit of a bastard.

* * *

The shuttle took off for Earth with little fanfare. Relena hummed softly to herself, and backed some of her documents on her laptop up to her office on Colony One via satellite, as was her habit. It was, so far, the smoothest shuttle flight that she could recall. 

And then, a small bang sounded under the left wing. She thought nothing of it until her gas mask fell in front of her, signifying a loss in cabin pressure.

Why today? she thought calmly, putting the mask on. Of all the days for her shuttle to crash, it _would_ be today . . .

* * *

Heero and the captain thought a little more of the noise than Relena had. 

"Holy shit," the captain said, losing all pretense of being a jolly old man. "Something just took out our left engine." 

"We're losing altitude," Heero growled. "It also took out the wiring systems, it looks like. We have no control over that wing anymore."

The ground began to loom closer. They were someplace over northern China, and the mountains did not look inviting at all. Another explosion wracked the shuttle, and this time a hundred warning bells and klaxons began screaming for attention. Flames had erupted all along the left side of the passenger cabin, and the entire wing assembly fell to pieces.

"We're going to crash," the captain shouted above the din. "Darlian is our only passenger. Grab a parachute and save her!" Heero stared at the captain, dumbfounded for a moment, then nodded, and grabbed his parachute from its emergency hutch behind his seat.

He fought his way through the cabin door, which had locked when the wiring systems had gone haywire. There were no stewardesses on this flight, as most of the functions of them had long ago been automated, so Heero at least didn't have to worry about anyone but Relena.

The captain goes down with the ship, the old saying went. Heero fought back a wave of sadness, and focused on the task at hand.

He almost whistled when he saw the extent of the damage in the passenger cabin. No wonder all the whistles had gone off. The left side of the shuttle was completely gone. Relena was on the right side, by the window seat, her old favorite place. She was unconscious, wearing the oxygen mask, but it looked as though she'd escaped the worst of the explosion. Heero shrugged on the parachute, freed her from the seatbelt, tucked her inside his arms, and leapt outside the shuttle through the hole torn in the side.

It was hard to hold onto her one handed while he pulled the ripcord. Weak, Yuy, you've gotten weak, he complained to himself as he juggled Relena in one arm. She was still unconscious. The wind whipped her hair free from its ponytail, blinding him for a moment.

"Dammit, I'm not ready to die," Heero hollered at the wind and any gods who might happen to be listening. He glanced up, relieved to see that the leader chute had opened without a hitch, so that when he pulled the second cord, the main chute opened properly. Behind and below him, the shuttle suddenly exploded into a fireball, and the shockwave propelled him forward a bit, the blast of hot air changing their course towards a grassy field. Heero squeezed Relena tighter, willing them both to survive.

As the ground grew closer, he stretched his feet, knees loose to roll quicker, and molded Relena's body to his as best as he could. He rounded his back to absorb the impact. They hit the ground much too fast for safety, and Heero remembered to buckle his legs before rolling over. They flipped several times before coming to a stop, he on top of her, debris from the shuttle landing quietly around them.

The entire thing had lasted less then five minutes.

Heero carefully extracted himself from Relena, hoping that he hadn't crushed her during their fall. She still was not awake. He sat up, and cradled her limp body in his arms. "Relena, don't do this to me," he said to her. She wasn't breathing, either. He laid her back on the ground and blew a lungful of air into her mouth. "Dammit, don't you die on me like this. Wake up!" He breathed into her mouth again, and a tear escaped his eye and fell onto her cheek.

She coughed, weakly, and opened her eyes. "Heero," she croaked, and coughed again, a little more strongly this time.

"Relena!" he cried, and clutched her to him again, now weeping openly. "Thank god," he whispered into her hair, over and over again. "Thank god you're alive . . . "

* * *

Forwa emerged from the boutique changing room, wearing a pair of jeans and a sunny yellow shirt. Hilde knew her fashions well, and had picked out a style of jeans that was flattering to Forwa's tiny figure, then combined a tight top, giving her a look that echoed the vintage Before Colony 1990s look that was all the vogue at the moment.

Duo was sitting outside the boutique, ignoring the intense shopping that had been going on for the past hour. His cell phone range suddenly, and he welcomed the distraction. 

"Yo," he said casually into the phone. "Oh, hey Dorothy. Yeah, they went shopping." He listened for a few moments. "It is a drag, isn't it? But Hildey just loves this sort of thing." He listened again, his face registering surprise. "Another one? Come to the Colony? Well, that's cool. We're at the Side 001C73 shopping mall, if you want to meet us there . . . It_ is _low key, believe me, no one's questioned Forwa yet, she looks less exotic than some of the punks that hang out here. We'll meet you for lunch at the Picadilly on the North Side, how's that? . . . Okay, bye, see ya then." Duo scowled at the phone after she hung up. He'd never liked Dorothy. Relena and Quatre were the only people who insisted that she was a nice person, deep down inside. To Duo she seemed like a whiny sycophant.

The girls came out of the store, carrying two stuffed shopping bags apiece. "We went a little overboard," Hilde admitted sheepishly. Forwa was wearing one of her new outfits, and Duo did have to admit it was a vast improvement over Relena's slightly too big and much too frumpy powersuit. Hilde had always had good taste in clothes.

"Change of plans, guys. We're meeting Dorothy for lunch. Hey, Forwa, do you know some guy named Cinch? Because your father just sent him over here to Colony One to see you."

Forwa blinked, and then grinned happily. "Oh, do I know Cinch . . ."

* * *

Word of the shuttle crash was slow. A satellite had caught the first explosion on film, but not the second or third, so no one in the shuttle control system was aware of how much damage had been done. They had lost any contact with it, and many people were assuming the worst.

"I want utmost secrecy on this," the head of PR operations for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs said, slamming his fist onto the desk as an underling asked if she should call a reporter.

But the Preventers were privy to information not for public knowledge, and Wu-Fei and Sally heard of it quickly.

"It was the aliens, I'm sure of it," Wu-Fei said angrily. "Relena should have listened to me last week."

"She had other things on her mind, Wu-Fei," Sally said, as they hopped into a rescue craft on a Colony One Side. "Until we figure out what happened, we can't assign any blame at all."

"It was either them or the Anti Alien League, and I don't think they'd have the guts to pull something like this."

"C'mon, Wu-Fei, let's just go . . "

Sally had the amazing ability to stay calm no matter what. It was something that had always impressed Wu-Fei, at the same time it frustrated him beyond all reasoning. If she would only get upset once in a while, it might make his life a little easier to deal with, but no, she was always perfectly stable, faintly amused, and always sensible. It drove him crazy.

Stupid woman, he thought faintly, as he started up the emergency craft.

* * *

Cinch frowned at the tall, elegant human female who had quietly fetched him from the Colony Side where the Novie ship was docked. She seemed so friendly and helpful on the surface, but he knew that it was all an act. He found it rather sad. He also found himself staring at her eyebrows more than once as the small Side shuttle took them from the supply Side to the larger, residential one that Forwa had been staying on. Her eyebrows fascinated him. They forked for no reason at all, and extended nearly an inch beyond the sides of her face. Did she wax them to make them do that? Or were they simply naturally coarse? He had to stop himself from touching them on more than one occasion.

Cinch was not a handsome person, not by human or Novie standards, but instead he exuded a youthful buoyancy that fooled most people into thinking he was. His hair fell in a natural tangle of slate gray curls to his slightly pointed ears, a style he'd affected so that people would not pay attention to his nose, which was slightly snub and hooked all at the same time. 

"Zwit sent me just to look after her until Miss Relena returns. I'm usually with her for diplomatic missions, actually. This was the first time she'd been sent on her own, but with the problems at the press conference, her father figured that this was all for the best."

"Of course," Dorothy said primly, smoothing out her skirt. "We don't want anything to happen to her at all. Miss Relena would be most upset."

Cinch gave her a strange look, then picked up a magazine that had been left behind by an earlier passenger. He blinked for a few times before realizing that the magazine was not in the language that he had been speaking with Dorothy, but in another one, one that he didn't even recognize. The characters were the same as the second language he had learned, for the most part, but it was so much garble.

"Oh, sorry, that one appears to be in Spanish," Dorothy said, and plucked it from his grasp. "Let's see . . . here's one in Japanese."

Cinch frowned at the second magazine. The title of it was in English.

"Newtype? What is a 'newtype?'"

* * *

Quatre and Dozé were the first civilians to hear of the crash, through a call from Trowa. They had been playing chess, Dozé with the quiet eyes easily beating his uncle, when the call came. Quatre left the room to answer it.

"Trowa!" Quatre cried happily. "I was worried about you!"

"Sorry for leaving you like that, Quatre," Trowa said in a quiet voice. "Listen, something terrible just happened, and I need your help. Relena's shuttle crashed. Heero was the pilot. But something else even worse has happened. Meet me on Colony Four in one day, okay?"

Trowa hung up the phone, leaving Quatre shocked, and puzzled over what could be worse than Relena and Heero crashing. He stared at the empty vidphone for a few moments, his mouth agape, trying to reconcile his thoughts with the idea of a world without Relena. It was very hard. He swallowed, trying to keep himself calm, then returned to Dozé in the other room.

"We're going to Colony Four," he said simply, not trusting himself to say any more. Dozé's eyes widened, but he didn't ask any more, but quietly left the chess game, although not before sliding his queen into a checkmate position.

* * *

Wesley Twentyman swirled the brandy in his glass, admiring his hosts' taste in licquor. The host himself, Twentyman's erstwhile boss, was across the room from him in a surprisingly opulant office in an unmarked building on one of the oldest Sides in all of space. This was Twentyman's first face to face, well, face to shadow meeting with the man who had been feeding his and Willow's addiction to orchids.

His unnamed benefactor's chair faced the wall, reminding Twentyman of so many B movie villains who did the same thing. There was a reason they did it, of course. It was quite effective in maintaining the barrier. 

"I trust you enjoyed the Peppermint Tigers," the host said, his voice pleasant. Twentyman swallowed quietly. The orchids had completed his Brazilian collection, making him the only owner of the complete set in the world. Among his small circle of friends and acquaintances, it was the greatest height of distinction to "complete" a country. And no one before him had completed Brazil. 

"Yes," he said truthfully. "Willow was ecstatic." 

"How is the girl, anyway? She's a bright one, she is. You ought to do right by her and marry her." 

Wesley nearly spit out the mouthful of brandy he had just sipped. MarryWillow? That was absurd! They weren't even in that kind of relationship! 

"Just kidding," the host said lightly, lifting his glass in a quiet toast. "I know you are partners and nothing more. You should not show your feelings so easily, though. Had I said something else equally shocking to you, it would have been dangerous. Now, onto business." 

Wesley cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to regain his compusure. The idea of marrying Willow -- *Willow* -- had rattled him more than he wanted anyone to know. He was destined to be an eternal bachelor, after all. No one married scum like him, which was just fine. 

"The plan I spoke of earlier has been executed." 

Twentyman hadn't heard about anything, so he assumed the press had been told to hush it up." So Darlian is out of the pictured?" 

"She is down, but she is not out. I made a small miscalculation." 

"But if her plane crashed, then surely . . . " 

"The copilot was Heero Yuy." 

Wesley swirled his brandy nervously. "I see," he lied as he had failed to do so entirely. 

"No, you do not. If anyone could survive a plane crash, it is that former Gundam pilot, and if he survived, he would not let Darlian die. No, they're alive out there, somewhere." 

* * * 

Heero paused in the act of tearing strips of the parachute to pieces to sneeze, almost at the same time as Relena. They looked wonderingly at each other, and she squirmed uncomfortably where she was sitting, as the sneezes had disturbed her wounded arm. 

"Must be some pollen or something," she said, shaking her head to clear it, her loosened hair tickleing her back. Heero had had to remove her blouse to get at her wounded arm, but she felt completely comfortable around him with only her bra on. It felt oddly liberating, too, to have the sun warming her bare skin in the middle of the grassy field. 

"I can remember you doing this for me on several occasions," Heero said gruffly as he continued tearing the parachute. Relena being without a shirt was having much more of an effect on him than it was on her. She was so damn calm, it was even more maddening for him. 

Relena smiled at him, entirely failing to notice what Heero was going through. "Yes, I remember. That time on the ship . . ." 

" . . .when you were an idiot and tried to play bodyguard for me when Duo was about to shoot me." 

Relena frowned prettily. "But you were wounded." 

"I should have died then. It would have saved the world a lot of pain and bloodshed." 

"Heero," Relena said sharply, her frown becoming real, grabbing his shoulder with her good arm. "Don't belittle your value to this world. You have done far more to help than anyone else. Without you . . . I would still be a princess in an ivory tower, oblivious to the pain of the world. Without you, Trieze may not have died. He would have been ruling the world, and there would have been even more bloodshed." 

Heero was silent for a moment, then he contined tearing off strips of his uniform shirt. Relena's words may have been true, but he was still a murderer, with sins to atone for . . . 

_Weak._

Heero startled, wondering where the voice had come from. Suddenly the world turned round him, and he dropped his shirt in horror. Thousands of shadows arose from the blackened plain around him, surrounding him, pointing fingers at him. Relena had disappeared. The sky went from blue to nightmarish gray, and the world strobed in the lightning from the storm above. The shadows chanted at him. 

_weak weak weak weak weak weak_

"Know your weakness, Heero Yuy," a familiar voice said. The lead shadow stepped out, in front of him, pointing an accusing, skeletal finger at him. "And know your strengths." 

_strength strength strength strength_

"Heero!" 

Relena's voice cut through the illusion, and suddenly the voices vanished. He realized that he was sweating profusely, that his undershirt was soaked, that he was shaking violently on the ground, Relena's face above him, her hair framed by the afternoon sun. Had he been having a seizure? And then he remembered . . . the ship . . . the shadow . . . this was the second time he'd had a seizure like that. The first time had been on the Novie ship. He remembered it all now. He and Duo hadn't fallen asleep at all. Had they been tortured? No, the shadows weren't Novie . . . they were human. 

"How long . . . how long was I out?" he asked, staring straight up, too surprised to move. 

"Almost ten minutes," Relena said, her voice breaking. Heero looked at her in wonder. She had had her plane blown up, her arm burnt severely, and she had stayed calm the entire time. But now she was weeping openly, her tears running down her face almost continuously. 

Over him. 

He stared at her, deeply touched, and absently reached up to brush a tear off her face. "Don't cry for me, Relena," he scolded softly. 

"I can't help it. I was so worried. What happened? Are you all right?" 

Heero sat up, and caught her in a deep hug, avoiding her burnt arm. "I just had a small dose of truth, that's all, Relena," he said. "And I realized something. Something important." 

Relena studied at him, her eyes searching his face for some clue that he hadn't gone mad. "What, Heero? What did you realize?" 

"That you're my strength, Relena. My weakness. You're both, and I need to stop running away from that." He moved his face closer to hers, his lips hovering inches from her own, his breath warm against her tearstained skin. Then he kissed her, and for Heero Yuy, all was lost. 

* * * 

"So Darlian is still a player in the game." 

"Unfortunately, yes. But I have a little something that will changed all that, if she survived." The host leaned back far enough to hand Wesley a small document packet, sealed with the wax of Romefeller. 

Wesley frowned hesitantly. "Don't open it," the host warned. "Just read this." He handed him another stack of documents, loose this time, then his posture relaxed again. "Once this becomes public, your Purity will stand to rule the world, and Darlian will no longer matter." 

Wesley took the documents, and flipped to the first page. He frowned as he read the top line. Then his eyes widened in mingled shock and wonder as he realized what he held. 

"I, Trieze Kreshrenada, of sound mind and body, do hearby declare this to be my solemn . . . this is . . ." Wesley breathed. 

"Trieze Krushrenda's will. His _missing_ will. Stamped, sealed, and then handed to me personally by one of the more delightfully corrupt soliciters of Romefeller. Skip all the boring estate stuff, and go down to the third page, fourth paragraph." 

"'In the event that I am killed honorably while serving my term as the sovereign of Romefeller, the title of sovereign shall fall to one Relena Peacecraft, princess of Sanq.' That chit . . . she's bloody queen again, isn't she?" 

The host smiled. "Although Romefeller is nowhere near the powerhouse it used to be, and the unified earth sphere is a democracy . . . she's still the queen. And she has been for three years, and no one has ever bothered to figure it out. Trieze's will was supposedly lost. But that was because I found it." 

"But the seal . . ." 

"I am a scientist," the host said, his voice suddenly sharp. "I don't need to break a seal to learn the meaning. And this is exactly the sort of stunt Krushrenada would have loved. He's probably grinning in his grave." 

"Damn him," Twentyman said softly. "He may be rotting in Hell now, but damn him again anyway. And damn her too. She's going to become even more of a rival for Purity." Twentyman was again failing to see the big picture. 

"No need to damn the damned," the host chided softly. "Nor the doomed." 

* * * 

Relena had to break off Heero's frantic kisses to sneeze twice again. "Someone must really hate me," she gasped, as he took the opportunity to kiss other, just as delightful parts of her. 

"Or you're allergic to me," Heero mumbled between kisses, then shut up as he continued the task at hand. 

"Never," Relena objected, then hushed as well. It didn't matter whether someone else hated her. Right now all she could think about was Heero. 

* * * 

"So now what?" 

"In any case, this won't need to become public for a while. While Darlian is down, go ahead and bring your Purity to the forefront again. And take out the alien girl, if you can get to her." 

"Now that I've already taken care of," Twentyman said. "Or should I say, Willow has." 

* * * 

One Willow Sable, PhD, peered around the corner of her cart in the Side Mall. She felt extremely undignified selling pagers to the mall riffraff. Her partner, that new recruit Trowa Barton, had comendeered a small cart through some means, and Willow did not really care to ask him exactly how he had done it. He was a good worker, that Barton. Less than a week after he'd joined their forces, he was already her favorite volunteer. She had discounted the look that he'd given Twentyman that morning as her own eyes playing tricks on her. 

Trowa was about as passionate for the actual cause as she herself, meaning he stared impassively while Purity gave her speeches. That suited her just fine. He was probably in it for economic reasons, too.

It was funny. He even looked a little like the girl. Same delicate nose, same softly tanned skin tone. Perhaps it was simply that they were both Hispanic. Willow cleared her head of those idle thoughts, and stared at her quarry, her dark, beringed hand gripping the cart more tightly.

There. The alien girl, Forwa, and the humans who were currently her hosts had sat down at a table in the Picadilly Cafeteria, the former with a small sampling of everything the resteraunt had to offer filling five plates, and the others bearing a more conventional lunchtime fare. Hmmm. How could they pull this off?

"If I disguise myself as waiter, I could get inside," Trowa suggested. Willow shook her head. 

"It won't do us any good. She won't leave the table without an escort."

"Hmmm."

The two unenthusiastic Keep Earth Human Leaguers stared at the lunchers, neither coming up with a sufficient plan. Trowa knew that he had to let Duo or Hilde see him, so that they would know Forwa was safe. With Relena gone (and Heero, too; Trowa had hacked into the air shuttle scheduling systems to confirm his hunch after he'd overheard Twentyman discussing the plan), the world needed to know that the alien girl was all right, and if they knew that he was involved with the operation, then they would know that she would be safe even if she was kidnapped. Duo knew his "disguise and infiltate" style very well after the incident during the Barton War.

While they were staring, their task suddenly became infinitely more complicated as Dorothy Catalonia appeared, her radar eyebrows seeming to twitch as she located the lunching trio. Worse, behind her was . . . another alien.

"Shit," Willow said, biting one perfectly manicured acrylic nail nervously.

"This is the first I've heard of another alien," Trowa whispered to her, as surprised as she.

"There was only one. And now there are two. They're multiplying." Willow's wide, deeply painted lips had narrowed into a thin line. Trowa felt almost sorry for the African woman. She was not cut out for this sort of thing at all. For one thing, she stood out among the gaily punk crowd of the Colony One side, in her prim, formal little powersuit. She was also much taller than pretty much everyone around her, including himself. All this for a bunch of flowers?

They continued watching the group, despairing of ever completing their goal of kidnapping Forwa.

And suddenly, a golden opportunity extended itself.

* * *

"Duo, Hilde, meet Cinch, my . . .my . . ." Forwa faltered. It was hard to describe her relationship with Cinch in one neat phrase.

"I'm Forwa's guardian," Cinch filled in helpfully, and extended a hand toward Duo, then Hilde. "Dorothy has told me that you're taking care of Forwa while Miss Relena is traveling to Earth. I thank you."

"And Forwa's told us all about you, Cinch," Duo said in response. "Sit, you all. Eat. Forwa's eyes are bigger than her stomach." He shoved one of Forwa's many untouched plates toward Dorothy and Cinch.

"That they are," Cinch agreed. Forwa shot him a hurt look, but she grinned at his teasing. She had explained to Duo that Cinch was more like an older brother to her than anything else, and it was quite accurate from their behavior.

Dorothy glanced from Cinch to Forwa, an odd look in her eyes. She hadn't liked the alien girl, much as she didn't like Hilde. They had the same sort of puppyish personality. Dorothy had mistakingly assumed that all the aliens must be like her.

But Cinch . . . he was different. He was open, and would tease, but he made it known that while he showed the friendly side most of the time, he was deep down a very serious person. Dorothy had always liked that in people. Her own personality was much the same way; she appeared whiny on the surface in order to hide the calculating mind beneath. Being two-faced was a regretful side effect of being raised in Romefeller. Everyone was polite or downright supplicant on the surface. Appearances had to be maintained while they all plotted to overthrow each other.

Dorothy found herself staring at him talk animatedly with the others, his soft gray curls bobbing as he spoke. His hair was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen. She wanted to reach out and pull one curl, just to see it spring back. . . Startled at herself, Dorothy blinked. Where had_ that_ thought come from?

"And so, this is the first time that Forwa was ever allowed to come on a mission by herself. We meant to have her do the entire thing on her own, but with the inflamed situation among the Keep Earth Human League -- and yes, we know about that, the reaction is quite common among isolated species, don't feel ashamed -- her father sent me here."

"Daddy treats me like a two-year old," Forwa complained.

"I'm sure he's only worried about you, Miss Forwa," Dorothy stepped in.

"I know," Forwa grumbled, then smiled again. She leaned forward to ask Hilde something, and Hilde whispered the answer back.

"Excuse me, I need to run to the . . . powder room," Forwa said, slightly embarassed. She slid her chair back with a squeak, then tiptoed across the resteraunt floor, not drawing a second glance now that she blended in with the fashions of the day. Hilde followed her, pausing only to glare at Duo as he patted her bottom on the way past.

* * *

"Okay, perfect. When she comes back, you grab the girl, and I'll . . . move this cart over there." Willow paused. "Can she fit inside this thing? Oh, bother . . . she'll be fussing . . ."

"No, I'll distract her guardian. You grab the girl. And to keep her from making a scene . . ." Trowa hed up a small washcloth. There was a small blue stain in the center.

"Of course, the knockout juice that Wesley had me make for Purity. Perfect."

Trowa nodded. The liquid was not only good for injections, but also had an ether-like effect when inhaled. Forwa would be knocked out in moments -- that is, if it worked on Novie as well as humans.

They split up. Trowa crept up behind a booth on the way to the restrooms, and as Hilde walked past, he grabbed her arm. She whirled around in surprise, but she relaxed when she saw who it was.

"Trowa! Hi, how are you?" she chirped automatically.

"I'm not bad. Quatre is also well. But I need to talk to you." He pulled her further behind the booth, and apologized for the upcoming fabrication. "I have it on good authority that someone is planning to kidnap Forwa." 

Hilde frowned, and expression that made her cute, heart shaped face look less worried and more pouty. "Why would anyone want to kidnap Forwa? She's just a kid. Why would anyone want to kidnap her? And how do you know about it?"

"Don't forget, I was a Preventer for a whole year. I still have contacts. How has she been doing? Have you seen anyone suspicious?"

"Well, now that you mention it, there was this creepy lady in the Gap, she kept staring at us, as if she wanted to shoot Forwa or something. And the cashier here refused to talk to us! And . . ." As Hilde babbled (much as Trowa knew she would; Hilde was the only person he knew that was more talkative than Duo), Willow Sable caught the alien girl as she was emerging from the restroom, and placed the cloth over her mouth. Forwa was out in a second. The whole thing had taken less than a minute, and had been done in total silence.

"Anyway, Hilde, be careful. And tell everyone I said hi. Also, tell Duo that no matter what happens, I'll be looking out for Forwa from the inside. He'll know what I mean."

Hilde shook her head in confusion, but reached up on tiptoe and gave Trowa a kiss on the cheek. "I'll tell him. Now, I better go catch Forwa before something happens to her. . . Be well, Trowa." Hilde scurried over to the restroom, and went inside the door.

Trowa helped Willow stuff the unconscious alien girl into the cart, and they both exited the resteraunt, then the mall, completely unnnoticed. Trowa knew that the alien girl would probably be safer with him than Hilde or Duo any day. For one thing, he didn't intend to let anyone kidnap her while she was under _his_ care.

"You're a good worker, Barton," Willow Sable said, as they put the entire cart into the back of her SUV groundcar. Trowa said nothing. With Heero and Relena probably dead, and the alien girl missing, there would be no one to stop Catherine from starting a war against the aliens. 

Except him. And to do so, he needed Forwa on _his_ side. 

* * *

[Ending Song: [][3]The Promise, by Michael Nyman] 

Episode Five: Lady Une discovers a terrible secret about the Novie; Trowa and Forwa plot to rescue Catherine; the world is doubly stunned by the apparent death of then restoration of the crown to Relena Peacecraft. Relena is not dead, however, and the Preventers launch a desperate plan to rescue both her and Heero Yuy. 

Want the lyrics for [][4]Airmail from the Moon? They are at the [][5]Anime Lyrics Library, courtesy of kaijyuu M of the [][6]Two Mix Electronic Library. The lyrics used in the beginning of each episode are an English arrangement by Cat Who, and are not the official lyrics, nor are they an entirely accurate translation. 

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine. It belongs to TV Tokyo, Sunrise/Bandai, and Sotsu Agency. All characters are used without permission, but please bear in mind, I am not making any money off of this. Airmail from the Moon ©1999 Two Mix. Watermark, Taliesin Arrangement is ©1995 The Taliesin Orchestra and Enya. Both songs are used without permission. 

   [1]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/index.html
   [2]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/airmail.mp3
   [3]: http://www.catwho.net/watermark/promise.mp3
   [4]: http://www.animelyrics.com/jpop/twomix/airmail.htm
   [5]: http://www.animelyrics.com/
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/kaijyuu_m/two-mix/index.html



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